Lifeline
by Amber Cahill
Summary: They might have not realized it yet, but their existence depends on the other. Amy/Ian Amian/Iamy
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** I have _finally_ come up with a final version of this fic, and I think it's better by a tenfold. Read this, because it has nothing to do with the previous version (though there are traces of it). Please review and let me know what you think!

**Disclaimer: ** The characters of _The 39 Clues_ are owned by its authors. All story plots, OCs, and words belong to me, AmberCahill. This disclaimer applies to the _entire_ fanfic. If the need to contact me arises, then leave your question/concern in the reviews - I don't PM.

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1.

Time - a concept hated by many, loved by others. Quite often was it wasted, and it was always used in one way or form. While the world outside may think that they had little time, they were never forced to compete with it in terms of life and death. Was every start of a day a beginning of a struggle to train, manage, and survive? Were the endings often in anxiety and stress because of the burdens weighing on their shoulders? Years too fast, the days scarce, and the hours like mere seconds? Was it rare that you were left safe, sound, and truly relieved? The world had yet to understand the amount of value in time, and there were few that did, living among the billions. Those few had ties thicker than blood, a common name. They were Cahills, and they really loved their time.

Amy Cahill had managed to scrape by until her eighteenth birthday; two years ever since the kidnapping of her loved ones, deaths, and downfalls of her family's enemies - the Vespers. She was in quite a shock as she stared at the date circled in red, but pleased to know that it had been almost two years since her family was introduced to a foreign word; safety. They were finally safe, and didn't have to worry about being killed by each other. Not all four branched had agreed to unite with each other, and Amy knew that it would take_ time_. The Madrigals had accepted her as their leader, and despite the pressure, she was glad to be entrusted with a responsibility, and worked her hardest to keep them in order.

Cora Wizard had finally loosened up a bit and allowed Jonah to take over, their bond strengthening from the distance they had during the Clue Hunt. The Starlings had taken leadership after displaying their skills and strengths as they battled the Vespers, causing the Ekatrina to open their eyes and accept them. It had taken Sinead time to gain every Cahill's trust, and she proved herself after openly defying Damien Vesper to keep her brother alive. Their parents acknowledged their distance more, and their family wasn't the broken glass it used to be. Alistair Oh's death was a shock to all, but they had managed to pull through. Eisenhower Holt was considered the clueless buffoon he used to be; his respect had been gained, and it was all thanks to his children. He and Mary-Todd were overjoyed to have their little girls back, and were immensely proud of Hamilton. It was a unanimous decision for the Tomas be led by them, but they were careful to place more responsibility on the son, than the father.

The Lucian were the hardest; as the war causing, mischievous, and sly people they were, it was difficult to organize them and overthrow the idea of Isabel and Vikram Kabra ever returning. But Nataliya, a.k.a NRR, proved her branch wrong, arguing with those who dared defied her; after all, Isabel had entrusted her with the branch if anything happened. That gave Nataliya full rights to pass leadership to who she pleased, and chose that Ian Kabra wasn't the traitor their branch made him to be. The young man was pressed with the burden at eighteen to prove better than his parents while evading the harsh comments thrown by his kind. Being the touch, occasionally arrogant, and strong person he was, he pulled through. Even though he wouldn't admit it, it was Amy's sincerity that pushed him on when he told her of the news and she encouraged him.

Their worlds had changed ever since they were children. At fourteen, the doors of the true colors of their family was opened, thanks to the death of Grace Cahill and the Clue Hunt that was put into action. A few months later, the branches had been united, Isabel rose to power again, and the Kabras broke more hearts, this time to protect. At sixteen, Amy and her family's loved ones were stolen away by family rivals, later defeated with the power of unity. It had taken time to adjust to life again; the scars had faded, but their memories were fresh.

Now, at eighteen years old, it was time to suffer another obstacle thrown in their way thanks to the lack of time and reality of being a Cahill.

o.o.O.o.o

Bleary eyed, Amy rolled off her bed and onto the floor with a startling thump. The annoying siren produced by her alarm clock continued to chirp. Stumbling off the floor, rubbing her sore back, she smacked the clock, effectively rendering it silent and injuring her hand.

"Ouch!" she squeaked, nursing her sore knuckles. "Stupid thing."

_Normally_, Amy would have no trouble rising at the crack of dawn. She would be fully awaken before the alarm would sound, shower, wake Dan, and be off to her daily routine with ease. Normality had faded, and was a thing of the past; she had stayed awake till about three in the morning, fretting over grocery lists, folded laundry, and potential threats that might get certain people killed in horrible ways.

In other words, her bizarre Uncle Fiske had invited the Clue-Hunters to stay at their mansion instead of hotel rooms. Why? The Madrigals and branch leaders were still having trouble managing the Cahills under their ruling; rebellions were breaking out. _Cahills_ and _peace_ never really went well in the same sentence. They had a conundrum on their hands and had to fix it fast before someone got hurt.

Amy grabbed her towel and rushed into the bathroom for a cool shower to wake up her senses. Emerging half an hour later with a towel around her body, she threw open the bathroom door and rushed to her room. She glanced at the clock and nearly screamed.

11:45 pm. How long had she been in the shower? She was sure that she had set the alarm for six in the morning; the Cahills were due to arrive at noon, probably before. Groaning in panicked anguish, she immediately realized that it was her prankster of her brother and cursed. Now was not the time to be fooling around. Drying her hair in haste, she changed into a white tank-top with a yellow cardigan and straight, navy jeans. She couldn't bother with anything fancy, so she threw a bracelet around her wrist and mopped her hair into a messy bun with a white headband. She glanced into the mirror; she resembled a honeybee with red hair.

Rolling her eyes, she slipped on white, elevated flip-flops, pocketed her cellphone, and glanced at the calendar for any other major tasks she may need to preform. A highlighted square caught her eye and she doubled back, reading the heading for her tasks.

_Happy Birthday to Me!_ She read it again, gaping at the date; March 23th, and slapped her forehead. She was eighteen years old. She wasn't fussy with her birthdays, but her mouth dropped in shock. Disaster on her birthday; the ideal celebration was lemonade and a good novel, not disastrous relatives! Sighing, she swung her door open and let it slam shut, walking through the maroon carpeted corridor. She could hear loud chatter from around the house and saw that there was a stack of suitcases near the door. The guests had arrived. Furiously, she sped down the stairs, ready to give Dan an earful.

A perfect start to a hell of a day.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** Now for chapter two. Those of you seeing this update as new, please read the first chapter as I have completely rewritten it. Tell me what you think of the change of plot, and thanks for reading. I love you, readers and reviewers.

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2.

"Daniel Arthur Cahill, I swear I am going to murder you and burn your video games one by one - "

Amy stomped into the living room where she could hear loud whoops of joy coming from her brother. She was pretty sure that the rest of her relatives were having lunch, and ranted before she confronted them. When she pulled open the French doors leading to the sun room, she stopped short and a rosy hue blossomed over her body. Ten or so faces grinned back at her, and a hand patted her shoulder. She turned around to see the smiling face of Arthur Trent, who had rejoined them after secretly aided them in the defeat of the Vespers.

"Try to wake up earlier, sweetie, eh?" he said, ruffling his daughter's hair. Her gaze swept at the entire room as everyone stared at her with amused expressions. Couldn't she have been placed in a less awkward and embarrassing situation? She cleared her throat, shuffling on her feet, forcing a shy smile, before shooting a scowl in her brother's direction, who was busy fooling around with his very, _very_ distant cousins.

"Hello, everyone," she managed, biting her lip as she felt her face burn. "Umm..."

"Amy!" Hamilton exclaimed, saving her from saying anything else. He got up from his seat and wrestled her in a monstrous hug, squeezing her until she couldn't breath. Reagan and Madison greeted her similarly, Arnold yapping at their feet. Amy progressed throughout the room, pulling people into hugs instead of sheepish handshakes. Sinead winked at her, grinning ear to ear while meeting her best friend. Amy swept past Dan, swatting his head, hugging Natalie, breaking the model's no-touch barrier with a laugh. She finally stopped at Ian, who had his hands stuffed in the pockets of his khaki's.

He smiled at her, and Amy felt herself blush. It was okay to hug Hamilton, Jonah, Ted, and the others, but when it came to your previous love interest, things just got awkward. Her mouth opened to stutter a meek greeting, but he swept her into a hug. His warm arms encased her and she leaned against his muscular chest, inhaling the scent of musky clove. It was over all too soon; friendly hugs were short and pleasant. Face flaming, she smiled at him, before (horrifyingly) stumbling over her Egyptian Mau on her trek towards the adults.

Taking a calming breathe and trying to soothe the thudding in her chest, she shook the nearest parent's hand. "Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Starling!" she piped, looking at the couple before her. Faint wrinkles were hidden on his sun-kissed skin, and his brown eyes were smiling behind a pair of glasses. A blouse and black pants dawned the motherly woman, and Amy wondered why she didn't meet these pleasant people often. They chuckled, shaking his head.

"How many times do I have to tell you to call us Lisa and Henry?" the woman laughed.

Amy shrugged, "Not enough, Mrs. Star - I mean, Lisa."

Oh, how she loved the Cahills.

o.o.O.o.o

Amy was saved from attempting small talk with anyone; everyone seemed perfectly fine conversing, and the adults were doing fairly well with the presence of Arthur Trent, even though some of them help plot his murder. Nellie called her from the kitchen, and she walked in, turning to look at the multicolored hair of her au pair. She was frantically stirring a boiling pot of sauce, draining spaghetti, and adding spices to mashed potatoes while monitoring the steak in the oven. Amy rushed over, taking over the job of the spaghetti.

Nellie smiled, scrunching her nose. "Do you think this is enough food? The adults are leaving at night, so it'll be just you kids. I suppose they'll be leftover sauce for lasagna..."

"It'll be fine, Nellie," Amy said, rolling her eyes. "You're fretting worse than Aunt Beatrice."

Nellie gagged, shooting Amy a mock-furious glare. "Oh, the horror! Don't compare me to that witch!"

Laughing, Amy proceeded to pour the sauce into large dishes, and the spaghetti in another. After finishing up with the potatoes, steak, and appetizers, she carried the trays into the large dining room, which was barely used thanks to the smaller table in the kitchen. Assembling them so that each third of the long table had each dish, she continued to fold napkins and organize the silverware. The large dining room doors flew open and a mane of orangey hair joined her, grabbing a stack of plates.

"Oh, come on, Sinead! You're the guest; I'll do it," Amy protested.

The Starling clucked her tongue, placing the dishes on the mats. "It's fine. It's already a disaster zone in there; Natalie's arguing with Dan and everyone's starting to take sides."

"Predictable," she muttered in response. "How's life been going?"

"It's fine... How about you? I haven't seen Evan lately."

The serving spoons toppled off the table and Amy cursed. "Well... Things haven't been good. We've been drifting."

"And?" Sinead prodded, ceasing her work.

"And I'm having trouble coming up with a way telling him that we're over."

"Goodness, thank you so much!" she shrieked, hugging her friend. "That guy was cute at first, but he doesn't deserve you. I mean, he's worse than that arrogant Jake!"

Slightly smiling, Amy made her way towards the door to call the rest of the family to eat. "Not helping, Sinead. What am I supposed to say?"

"Well," she started. "Just tell him that you'd rather be friends and that it won't work out. Don't overdo the apologizing; he might take advantage of that."

Nodding, Amy bit her lip as she glanced at the room where her family sat. She stood at the door frame, announcing that dinner was officially ready, and followed her friend back to the kitchen. To her surprise, Nellie's waiting for her, and thrust the home phone into her hands.

Confused, Amy asked, "Who's on the other end?"

Nellie rushed towards the dining room, and called over her shoulder that she didn't know, and needed to make sure no one blew up the house. Laughing, Amy turned to Sinead. "I'll join you inside after I take this call."

She waved after her, and turned to join the rest of the family. Amy brought the phone to her ear and gave a hesitant "Hello?"

"Hey, Amy. Umm, it's Evan." What's left of her smile disappeared, and she frowns at the phone, her eyes wide as saucers. She trekked farther down the hall so that no one would be able to overhear her conversation, and leaned against the wall. What was she supposed to say?

Smehkaleen, she was in for some trouble.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: **I just read Trust No One and I freakin' hate Jake freakin' Rosenbloom with all my heart! Like, are you serious? There's only that small moment of Iamy when Amy calls Ian with the boys to apologize, and the rest of the time she's daydreaming about that idiot! I mean, come on, Ian is obvious the perfect one for her. Evan should be in Amy's life, but as a friend. I hate Jake and I think this is so unfair and Amian should be a canon and Ian and Amy are totally perfect for each other (it's so obvious!) and I'm so mad right now and I think I'm going to start crying. Is anyone else fuming?!

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3.

"Hello, Evan," she responded, tugging on the hem of her shirt. She stared anxiously at the picture of her and Dan hanging on the hall's wall, shuffling nervously on her feet. The grape Popsicle stain on her shirt and her messy hair of when she was five seemed more appealing than embarrassing at the moment. She didn't even consider taking it down in case a guest happened to pass by. Heck, she'd rather than happen then talk to Evan during that treacherous moment.

"What's up, Ames?" Evan replied happily. "It's been a week since we last spoke, so..."

Amy cleared her throat. "Oh, I have the Cahills visiting. Do you want to come over?"

_No, no, no!_ Amy thought, clamping a hand over her mouth. Why did she have to be so polite and mannered? Why couldn't she dump him right then over the phone? Why did her stupid mouth run without her brain's permission? She should have been given an award for 'Most Idiotic Phone Replies to Boyfriend'. She could easily win under the category of 'Worst Girlfriend Ever'. Maybe even 'Lamest When Breaking Up With - '.

"Sure; is King Cobra there, too?" he asked.

Amy managed to squeak out a "Yes"; Evan obviously still hated Ian because of his good looks and the obviousness of Amy still having faint feelings for the British playboy. Instead of announcing that he wouldn't come, he groaned and told her to expect him in ten minutes.

Returning the phone to its charger, Amy shuffled towards the lounge, discovering that no one had started eating and that everyone was still talking, this time standing. It was amazing how social the Cahills had become; escaping a chance to eat and avoid conversing wasn't a new concept. She figured that it would take about ten more calls for them to actually move over into the dining area.

And to her horror, her dear brother, Daniel Cahill, was thumb-wrestling with his best mate, Atticus Rosenbloom. When there was one Rosenbloom brother, there was bound to be another. Amy raised her hand to her temples, rubbing them while faintly remembering that she had agreed to it. Come to think of it, Dan had whined, and she was busy, therefore muttering an agreement unconsciously She had to start paying more attention to the dweeb, no matter how much his non-stop chatter annoyed her. She might miss something, and lead herself into a situation worse than the one she was in now.

Across the room, Sinead caught her eye and raised her eyebrows in a silent answer. _Did you do it yet?_ Amy shook her head, informing her that she didn't. Sinead tilted her head to the right, signaling to the person near her. Amy turned and walked to the circle of four branch leaders, a few spectators (their brothers and sisters), and one outsider. It wasn't surprising that they were arguing, but somehow Jake had caught up with it. She walked towards them, standing in between Sinead and Jonah.

"What's going on?" she asked, sighing. Jake caught her eye and smiled, and took a step forward. Like a whip, Ian's hand shot out and stopped him from walking any further. Despite the boys' fierce scowling, Amy was relieved.

"Just someone interfering," Ian said coldly. "I think it's time to eat. Nellie's called us enough times."

As the proceeded towards the dining room, Amy bumped into someone. Looking up, her eyes met blue irises, and she managed a small smile despite the sinking in her stomach. Evan grinned at her, and leaned forward to kiss her. She turned the right second and he caught her cheek instead. What was left with his smile disappeared and he looked at her in uncertainty.

"Amy..." he trailed off, noticing her frown and the way she bit her lip. He took her arm and pulled her outside. She leaned against the closed door and sighed. His hand rested on it behind her, making him seem close, but not _too_ into her space. Behind his thick, black glasses, he rose an eyebrow, his eyes sad.

"Umm, I really don't know what to say," Amy muttered, her face flaming more by the second.

Evan shifted on his feet and dropped his arm. "But I know what you want to. It's the end, isn't it?"

Nodding dumbly, Amy opened her mouth and closed it again. It was surprising that they had managed to scrape by two years with Jake around, and she wasn't sure if she still liked Evan the way she used to. The fact that he played a major role in rescuing her family made it more difficult to let him go. But she didn't have to, did she?

"Evan, I really care about you and everything, but I'm not sure what to do. You and me. It won't work," Amy said, stumbling over her words. "And I don't want to lose you because you've done so much for me."

She hesitantly looked up and saw that his blue eyes were glazed and he was staring at the garden in front of them. He was always used to being taunted and teased, made fun of for his status. He loved the way she delved into her books, spouted facts every moment, and spent nights with him studying and occasionally kissing. He should have seen this coming, but when he was happy he often became blinded. She was the only person who refrained from calling him a nerd, and actually appreciated his interest. He always lost, but when it came to Amy, he won.

For the first time in his life, he got the girl. And now he had to let her go. Because he knew that one day, the ones he loved would be needed to be set free. And it was killing him.

Sighing, he shoved his hands into his pockets. "Okay." His voice was clear of emotions, and Amy winced. "But I can't completely kick you out of my life. Friends, then?" He outstretched his hand and Amy smiled before ignoring it completely and hugging him. She inhaled the scent of his cologne for the last time before pulling away.

No, he didn't lose anything - Evan Tolliver had gained an honest friend.

o.o.O.o.o

He left. She knew that she had hurt him, but did he really have to leave? Actually, come to think of it, Amy wouldn't be able to face Evan until she got some sleep, ate enough chocolate, and took a long bubble bath. She Amy have been different from the rest of the female population in the world, but she was a teenage girl that had broken up with her boyfriend (even though it went moderately well and he didn't completely hate her). Despite her relief, a few tears did escape and she hastily wiped them away before walking into the dining hall.

"Where's Evan?"

Amy pressed her lips together and jerked her head towards the door. Sinead seemed to get the message and widened her eyes. Amy shrugged, plopping down on the only seat available; in between Jake and Phoenix. Fate seemed to hate her, but she busied herself in downing two plates of spaghetti and mashed potatoes. She avoided meeting Jake's eye as well as Ian, who was four seats down on the opposite side of the table. Her face flared more and more by the second.

"Amy, are you feeling oka - "

"No!" she snapped, glaring at the direction of the voice. Jake's forehead creased in concern and he seemed startled at her loud outburst. Her voice had risen above the ones of other's and everyone was looking at her in surprise. Blushing, Amy grabbed her plate and glass and escaped to the kitchen, dumping her dishes in the sink. She then walked to her place of peace and solitude - the library. She didn't want anyone to ask her if she was alright (she wasn't) because Evan's shattered expression was glued in her mind. He had done so much for her, and she had returned the favor by breaking up with him. How much more horrible could she get?

Amy picked the first book she saw off of the various shelves, and settled on a white beanbag. Sinking in the comfortable cushion, she opened to the first page and tried to read. She was failing greatly, and settled for escaping to the quiet part of her mind that she was always welcome to visit.

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**Author's Note #2: **I tried to make that as sweet as possible so that Evamy fans and readers would see my logic of why Evan belongs in Amy's life as something _other_ than a boyfriend ;) Anyone who doesn't support Amy/Ian and is still reading this (thank you!) agree?


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: **I got an interesting review from a guest names "BrowneyedG". She pointed out the together is made up of the words to-get-her. I just thought that was a cool observation, so, yeah. All credit goes to her. Please review?!

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4.

Ian Kabra stared at the empty seat down the table. He met Jake's eyes, who scowled at him furiously as if he was the one that made Amy run off. In response, Ian smirked and returned to his plate of mashed potatoes. He could feel the Rosenbloom's anger and knew that his death was being planned at the very moment. Not that it would succeed a Kabra was never known for his mercy. He may have changed, but he was still foreign to the idea of being put down and losing. Kabras never lost, especially when it came to getting the girl. But so far, he was indeed, _failing_. Looking down at the gravy pooling on his plate, he suddenly felt that the food was unappetizing at the moment. Picking up his dishes (another new occurrence), Ian left the table.

"I presume you're going after Amy?" Natalie hissed, barely moving her glossed lips. She glanced at him and rose her eyebrows, expecting a response. Ian frowned; truthfully, that idea was at the back of his mind. It did seem appealing, so he frowned at his sister instead of replying and loaded his dishes into the dishwasher (fully knowing that Fiske would kill him for doing something the guests weren't supposed to do).

He immediately knew where Amy was; it was extremely obvious and even a person as dimwitted as Daniel Cahill would know. He strolled down the hall, staring down at the carpeted floor. He glanced at a picture frame, and took a double-take. He grinned; it was one of Amy and Dan when they were much younger. Amy's hair was wild, and her clothes were wrinkled. She had a fruit pop in her hand and had missing teeth exposed from her wide smile. Dan had a bottle rocket in his mouth (no surprise), and was staring blankly at the camera. Shaking his head, Ian moved on towards the double doors of the library.

Walking in, he noticed that more shelves were added so they went from the ceiling to the floor. They were filled with books, and he presumed that this was Amy's doing. His gaze rested on the figure in the beanbag chair, book on lap and legs curled. Strands of hair that cam loose from her bun had fell onto her face. As Ian neared her, he noticed that her eyes were glazed over as if she was deep in thought.

"Amy?" he said quietly, as if speaking any louder would shatter her. He bent down in front of her so he rested on his knees. He touched her leg gently, and she started, blinking rapidly. Her jade eyes widened and she hastily shoved the escaped strands behind her head. Closing her book, she stared at him.

"Why aren't you eating?" she asked.

Ian smiled genuinely, the action reaching his eyes. "Why aren't you? And I haven't heard of anyone that reads dictionaries for pleasure," he said.

She looked down at the cover of her book and blushed. "Umm," she stammered. "I was expanding my vocabulary." The statement cam out more as a question, and he blush deepened, burning her face.

"Are you alright?" Ian asked hesitantly, repeating Jake's question with caution.

Amy debated whether or not to tell him. She figured that nothing bad would come out of it, and told him the truth. "I broke up with Evan a few minutes ago."

Ian's mouth dropped, and he tried to suppress his smile and whoop in joy. Amy noticed his quivering mouth and rolled her eyes. "Go ahead and say 'I told you so'. He's not a Vesper, though, if that's what you're insinuating."

"I told you that he wasn't your type," Ian said solemnly. "Because he's an annoyingly, clingy git."

"He's still my friend, though," Amy protested. "So you can't say that!"

Ian raised his hands in surrender and chuckled. "Whatever you say, Cahill."

"That's right, _Cahill_," she countered, grinning. The burden had been partially lifted from her chest.

Of all the people in the world, Amy did _not_ expect Ian Kabra to be the one to comfort her after her first breakup.

o.o.O.o.o

Jake Rosenbloom was absolutely livid.

He paced the expanse of his father's study, ranting to the last person he'd thought to talk about girls to.

"It's that Kabra!" he fumed, running his hand through his hair. "Every moment, he takes it away from me! And she's perfectly fine with it! I mean, yesterday she snapped at me, and then that _rat_ goes and manages to laugh along with her. He's always scowling at me; he's got absolutely no respect!"

"Mmhmm," Mark Rosenbloom absently muttered. "What's he like?"

"He had this irritating British accent and dark colored eyes and hair. He's got this sister; she's pretty good looking, I guess. They are Isabel Kabra's kids."

"British," Mark said, scribbling reports for his work. "And how old is he?"

"Eighteen."

"And you're twenty-one. Maybe there's something about him you're too blinded to see."

Jake threw up his hands. "All I know he's an arrogant, loathsome, filthy rich teenager that managed to legally take over his parents' property during some jumbo case thing. His mother's dead and Vikram's still in hiding."

"Rich," Mark repeated, "Amy's not a money person, is she?"

"No. She's dating a geek who I'm pretty sure she's going to break up with."

"Well, because he's managing an art business, a whole Cahill branch, and his sister's life while dealing with missing parents?" Mark suggested.

Jake groaned. This wasn't getting anywhere but ruining his chances. "_I don't care _what he does. All I know is that he's dated a billion girls before, while I've dated one. He's a player, I'm not."

Mark rubbed his eyes under his glasses. "Maybe you need to take the fact to your advantage and make that girl you're crushing on realize it."

Jake stopped pacing and stared at his father. He was right. All he needed was a plan to open Amy's eyes and realize what was behind the smooth, British drawl and mask of handsomeness. Yes, he had finally found a weak spot and knew what to do.

He was going to ruin Ian Kabra.

o.o.O.o.o

"Okay." Amy said, running her finger across the smooth mahogany of the long conference table. Her visiting family, among other Madrigals that were in higher positions sat before her. This was the only thing she was sure of doing. When it came to leading her branch and uniting the others, she had a direct goal, a task, and her stutter and embarrassment disappeared. Grace was right; she was a uiet bookworm that was immensely shy, but had the potential to be a great leader. Hence, the position she was in now.

Oh, how she wished it was the same when it came to boys.

She rose from the seat, leaning forward on the table, her eyes sweeping across the occupied room. Her gaze lingered on the four other branch leaders that sat closest to her; Ian and Sinead to her right while Hamilton and Jonah sat across from them. Fiske, Nellie, Dan, and the other guests were farther down, giving her their undivided attention.

"It came to my concern that we've had an issue with the daily Cahill check-in. Is that right?" she asked. The four nodded in agreement, with the others. "Two weeks ago, Ronald Anderson was fed poisons from the Lucian facility that erased his memory." She rose her hand to comfort Ian's bewildered look. "He was sprayed with Janus acidic paint, tramped the way a Tomas could hurt him, and was discovered with a crushed Ekat listening device stitched on the back of his neck."

"If you need conformation that we're on you're side, I think the fact that we haven't killed anyone in this room is enough," Hamilton said lightly, his defensive side kicking in.

Amy smiled slightly. "I wasn't insinuating against any of you," she cleared. "I was merely suggesting that the thing we've been fearing ever since we uniting is occurring at this moment."

"The rebellion," Ian said. "I think I understand. Our database has been unable to identify any of the Lucians; their daily check in consists of only numbers, not names. I had it tested before my eyes, and the state of the art security had a glitch." The other three agreed, recounting on the same occurrences.

"How many?" Amy asked.

"Fifty-nine missing," Sinead said.

"Sixty-eight from the Tomas."

"Sixty-four of our Janus."

"I have fifty-seven Lucians absent."

"Over two hundred in all, plus my twenty-two Madrigals." Amy frowned. "That means the people behind this have broken in deep enough to override our systems. They are one of our own, and aren't happy with the way the unity is playing out."

"Is it possible they're associated with the Vespers?" Ned suggested.

"No. I don't think they are. The Vespers are a done deal; we know who each person is, even though nine are left on out hit list."Amy rubbed her temple assessing the problem. "I want weapon checks and counts from the arsenals every single day. Names of every single branch member, and the ones with the highest ranks. We need tracking devices under lock and key, databases swept. This is serious, and will call for major cleanup. Everything needs to be checked, everything redone, analyzed, and recorded. Do not tell a single person of your actions."

"Remember this, everyone." Amy's eyes locked with everyone's piercing their souls. "William McIntyre meant well with his words." Dan visibly swallowed, looking away from his sister.

Her last three words chilled them with their truth and the amount of pain lingering behind them.

"_Trust no one_."

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**Author's Note #2:** Wow. I liked this chapter. Tell me what you thought.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: **Review, lovelies. Especially those of you who've been reading this fic and don't bother entering feedback. And I've been typing this with a fractured finger, so excuse any typos. _AND DAY OF DOOM IS OUT! OH MY FREAKIN' GOODNESS, I NEED TO READ IT!_ - Excuse that panic attack. I just really need to buy the book because I heard that there are deaths, and I really hope there's Iamy... And I swear I'll be the happiest person ever if Jake dies. Evan shouldn't - he's too nice and he and Amy will break up on their own accord. But Jake - Grrrr...

* * *

5.

"That was intense, kiddo," Nellie commented. They stepped out into the cool night and watched the other Cahills board cars to return to Grace's mansion. Amy shrugged, pulling her coat around her and slid into the passenger seat of her guardian's convertible. Leaning back, she tried to relax despite the new burden weighing heavily on her shoulders.

"I guess it had to be," Amy said. "I mean, it's been only been three months since I've taken over, and look what's happened."

Nellie sighed, focusing on the road while leading the trail of relative in vehicles behind her. Arthur, Fiske, and Dan brought up the rear of the long line. "I know. You did a great job. Grace, Hope, and Alistair would've been proud. Heck, maybe Irina, too!"

Amy froze, her gaze swerving to Nellie. The last two sentences meant more to her than any compliment she could have received. Not only was it a reminder of those who had gone and were hunted by the Cahill name, but also a name to the legacy she made a goal to live up to. She felt moisture blur her vision and hastily wiped the forming tears away. _Grace, Hope, and Alistair would've been proud. Heck, maybe Irina too! _Four very important people gone. Alistair and Irina may have taken time to show that they were on their side, but their losses hit her hard. Especially Alistair, who had been helping Ned and Ted when he was captured, later dying by an enemies hand. Grace, whose cancer had gotten to her after all the life-threatening situations she was in. And then there was her mother; she hadn't escaped the fire set by Isabel, and Amy missed the mother she barely had desperately.

But she had to stay strong. They were legacies to honor within the Cahill name.

Nellie pulled the car into the garage as did Arthur next to them. Amy opened her passenger seat door, slamming it shut behind her, and felt her father kiss the top of her head.

"I'll always be there," he reminded. Amy smiled gratefully, watching her most trusted relatives tiredly trudging back into the mansion.

They had all risked their lives in one way or another. And she would too, because Cahills were fighters, risking it until the end.

o.o.O.o.o

Darkness. The pitch black was never a good thing, and often meant danger, death, and traps. As Amy fumbled along the walls for a light-switch, she felt a chilling shiver travel down her spin. The hair on the back of her neck pricked uncomfortably, and she spun around. She squinted,trying to make out any familiar piece of furniture to help her locate any source of light, but it was darker than the night outside. The curtains were pulled, and it was deathly silent. Hesitantly, she called out.

"Nellie? Dad?" she hissed. "Fiske? Dan, if this is a prank, I'll kill you!"

No one responded. "Natalie?" she added, hoping that someone would respond. But the only thing she heard was the sound of the creaking floorboards beneath her feet. She heard a crash and let out a girly squeal. Sighing, she calmed her racing heart and trekked forward. Not a soul could be found. Was this it; had the rebels found them? Did they somehow get through the electrocuted gate, sound systems, and triggers that would call the police within a second? What was going on? She sucked in a breath and hoped that the worst had not already happened.

Her foot caught on something soft and she lunged forward. Her palm scraped against carpet and she let out a frustrated breath. The lights suddenly flickered on, and she squinted as the beams stung her darkness accustomed eyes. Stumbling up, she looked around.

"_Happy Birthday, Amy!_"

The loud squeal of party noise-makers filled her ears and despite the noise, she grinned. She was in the ballroom which was rather large for the number of people in it. Streamers, balloons, banners, and decorations donned the walls while a stack of gifts rested on table cloth covered tables. There were snacks and fruit on one, cake on another, and she felt immediately overwhelmed. Her relatives that arrived just this morning managed to put a party together despite their tiresome state. Amy had never had a birthday this big in her seventeen, now eighteen years. Grinning ear to ear, she refrained from letting the tears spill over. Being a girl really had its downsides when it came to emotions.

She was swallowed in hugs, playfully swatting her affection-shy brother when he pulled away quickly. He gave her a lopsided smile and remarked, "Why am I the first person to accuse all the time?"

"Because you're too mischievous for your own good, dude," Jonah responded.

All of her worries and the load of stress was dispelled within minutes. Before she knew it, she was staring at a very large pile.

"Oh my god," Amy squeaked. After being filled with sugar and sodium filled junk-food a small amount of fruit (which was served for the Kabra's sake), and delicious marble cheesecake frosted with her name, Amy was steered to the Leaning Tower of Presents. She had never gotten that many, and encouraged everyone to stop making her birthday just a big deal. Apparently when the clue-hunting Cahills united, it was though otherwise. "This is too much."

Natalie rolled her eyes, shoving the first box into her hands. "Well, you better get used to it."

o.o.O.o.o

"Where am I putting this?" Ian asked, holding a few presents. He had (surprisingly) offered to help bring them up to Amy's room since she couldn't carry them all herself. He had turned out to be a big help - they had managed to do it in only two trips, until the eight or nine it would've taken Amy.

Biting her lip, she cleared her desk. "I guess they can sit here until I sort them out."

Ian obliged, and sighed.

"Thanks, Ian!" she piped.

He nodded, before awkwardly pulling a box out of his jacket's pocket. "I didn't want to give this to you in front of everyone else..." he said, and added quieter, "Natalie wouldn't let me hear the end of it."

Amy gasped. Laying on folded sheets of silk was a set of necklace and earrings. They were all made of white gold, jade jewels adorning each of them. It was much too pretty for her to wear, despite the fact that Ian tried to find something as simple as possible. "Ian," she breathed, her gaze locking with his. "It's beautiful. Thank you so much. I..."

"Can I..." he asked, tilting his head towards her. Amy nodded slowly. He set the box on her bed, and took the necklace out. Gently, he clasped it behind her neck where Grace's jewelry used to be worn; Amy had kept it under lock and key with Gideon's ring ever since they defeated the Vespers.

Turning back around, Amy ran her fingers along the cool surface of the jade stones and white gold. She took a step forward, wrapping her arms around Ian. He stiffened, but returned the gesture, her small frame folding into his. When she pulled away, her face was flushed bright pink. Ian smiled, brushing his lips across her forehead and left her room, closing the door behind him.

Amy gingerly touched her forehead, the only part of her body that she could feel.

o.o.O.o.o

Breakfast was a complete, utter disaster.

The noise hit Amy and quickly escalated into a headache. Sighing, she grabbed a bowl of cereal and escaped to the solitude of the sun-room to eat peacefully. The rest of the day was going to be completely filled with paperwork and branch business with Sinead, Hamilton, Jonah, and Ian. That meant she had to face the boy who had spend a couple hundred dollars on her for a _birthday present_. She couldn't bring herself to even look at the necklace properly for it's shine and value. Good thing the only people who gave her wearable things were Jonah (mp3 Comms Unit that could also take calls from her cellphone by voice command), Sinead (convertible heels with knives and weaponry stored in the wedge) and Natalie (a beautiful silver and green dress).

Sighing, Amy lifted her bowl to her lips, drinking the rest of the milk before trekking back to the kitchen and quickly dropping it off in the sink. She then went to the Cahill Command Center; Ian, Sinead, Jonah, and Hamilton had just arrived and were powering on the systems. She plopped down on an empty swivel chair in front of the large screen at the front of the room and spun it around.

"So," Jonah said. He slid a large package of papers down the table. "I found family trees of the remaining Vespers. All of them come from Vesper families, but I think you need to see this one." He handed Amy a manila folder. "There's quite an interesting name down there."

Nodding, Amy flipped the folder open and saw that it was Casper and Cheyenne Wyoming's family tree tracing back three generations and branching out towards first cousins, second cousins, and so on. She traced the line entwining the two and then traveled to the right towards there distant cousins. Her finger froze when she saw the name until a seventh cousin and with 'Non-Vesper' scribbled under it. She abruptly stood, her chair toppling over.

_Distant cousin seven times removed. Maternal side._

_Non-Vesper. Age 18. Male._

_Evan Gregory Tolliver_

o.o.O.o.o

Evan skimmed the thick textbook with fraying pages laying on his desk. The cover was plain and had gold trim lining the title, with the author's name underneath. Amused, his lips quirked upwards when he realized that the author was, indeed, a Cahill. Technically he was the a Madrigal, too; the second one to be out of the bloodline, Nellie being the first. It was amazing what type of world his girlfriend had shown him. This was the real deal behind motorcycle men and broken windshield wipers.

_Electromagnetic... Permanent Magnets... Demagnetization... Polar Conversions... Usage in Natural Disasters..._

The title caught his eye immediately and he recounted on stopping the Vespers. Their plan had been magnificent, but it was quite easy to spoil when given the chance. He sighed; was Amy going to throw him away just like that? Or was she honest when she said she wanted to keep him in her life, that she actually cared? A faint feeling of bitterness tugged at his heart and he quieted it, knowing that their breakup was inevitable and he was no match for Jake or Ian. But he liked her, just as a sister or a close friend now. He was no longer a boyfriend, but plain old Evan Tolliver.

His phone chimed with an incoming call, abruptly pulling him out of his thoughts. He glanced at the caller ID, her heartbeat erratically increasing when he realized it was Amy. His first thought was to ignore her, but it was the first morning of the reunion and he was going to visit soon, per her invitation, to escape the family on his mother's side that was coming over to visit. He figured it was important and picked it up.

"Hello?"

"Evan!" her voice was breathless as if she were running - or potentially making-out with someone... He shook her head and continued to listen. "Look, you need to get out of your house right now and come over. Bring your mother and father too. The visiting family didn't arrive, yet, right?"

"No, they didn't... Amy, what's wrong?" he asked, immediately getting up and pulling on his sneakers.

"I just got some reports and found out the visiting family is actually C - "

The line cut off into static and Evan started to grow worried. "Hello? Amy? Are you there?"

He reached for his doorknob, but the door banged open itself, revealing a pair of familiar blond-haired twins. The woman twirled her hair around her finger, and the man traced the edge of his long dagger.

Visiting family. Mother's side. Out of state. Busy at work.

Casper and Cheyenne Wyoming.

"Hello, dear cousin. You've caused us much trouble, haven't you?" Cheyenne purred.

So this was his end. He would never grow older, attend Harvard, get married, or even have children. Calmly, Evan shut his phone and slipped it into his pocket. Deep blue eyes locked with hungry teal, and he braced himself for the blow.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: **My review for Day of Doom - Where are you Riordan, Peter, Margaret...?

BTW: Pretend Natalie survived being electrocuted, and Evan had surgery and survived the bullet in DoD. Everything else went according to the book's plot-line.

_Dedicated to my fellow Essencers because we had a very nice chat about OOC-ness and they all deserve some IC :)_

* * *

6.

"Hello? Evan? Are you there?" Amy said, her voice rising frantically. She ran her hands through her hair, her worried eyes bright with panic and concentration. "Please, Evan, answer me!" Frustrated, she threw the phone on the floor and met the surprised stares of the four.

This was all her fault. If she hadn't chosen yesterday, the arrival of the most powerful Cahills, to dump her boyfriend, he would've still been at the Command Center. Casper and Cheyenne would be at an empty room, not one where they would be satisfied in pursuing their target. She wasn't sure if Evan knew whether of not he was related to two dangerous Vespers that were once in the Council of the Six. He would've told her, wouldn't he? But they were seven times removed and Amy didn't know she was related to some people until a few years ago. His mother must have had some Vesper ties, but may have changed sides if she was willing to let Evan contribute so much to the Cahills.

"What happened?" Ian asked, already rising and clicking a dart-gun into his belt.

Amy bit her lip, rubbing her eyes desperately. "I think they've got him! The line just went dead and I could hear talking in the background. I know something has happened to him!"

"Okay," Sinead sighed, running her hand through her hair. "Let's think this through."

Ian's amber eyes were sharp as they swerved towards her. "There is nothing to think through. The five of us will go and leave the rest home in case something happens. Jonah, please go downstairs and tell Fiske."

The rapper actually obliged as Ian calmly took over. The rest armed themselves and pulled on gloves to protect against the end-of-winter chilly breeze, and left the room. He gently touched Amy's arm, and she met his gaze. "We're going to find out what's going on. I think you should stay - "

"No! I'm coming," Amy said, grabbing her coat. Ian nodded and watched as she trekked out her room, determination set clearly across her face, daring anyone to stop her.

Surprisingly, when they arrived there weren't any police vehicles of strips of caution tape outside of the quaint Attleboro home. The pale blue shutters were drawn open, and the tan colored house didn't have any trace of intruders. The driveway was empty, except for a pair of motorcycles that obviously didn't belong to fifty year old Mr. and Mrs. Tolliver. Ian passed the house in the car twice, peering out the tinted windows before finally parking at the corner of the street. The crew, hastily dressed into greens, grays, and black pulled on leather gloves and clutched weaponry filled with both darts and bullets.

They all had to take special care not to set off the knives in their boots when they bumped into each other.

"Hamilton, you and Sinead take the back doors. Jonah, you hold up all the front entrances with Ian and me," Amy said. "We have the garage and main door. Does anyone want to add?" She looked at Ian whose mind was turning with plans only a Lucian would be able to devise.

"Shoot to kill."

o.o.O.o.o

Amy crept through the halls and glanced through every doorway she passed. Each and every one was empty, including the bedrooms of Evan's parents and sister. There was only one door left; her and Ian against whoever was inside. Maybe having Jonah, Sinead, and Hamilton hold up the perimeter wasn't such a good idea. She heard a slight scuffle from the ajar door of Evan's bedroom and instinctively pressed against the wall. Biting her lip, she turned to look at Ian who was counting down from five under his breathe.

_Five, four, three..._

Was her ex-boyfriend dead? She knew that Casper and Cheyenne should've been caught by the Interpol already, but it seemed that the two former Vespers weren't as dim as she thought they were. She hoped that since Evan survived the gunshot through his chest once before while battling the Vespers, he should be able to do it again. Plus, his parents would start asking _more_ questions than they already were.

_Two, one..._

The Wyomings were strong, and a lot older than her. Ian was nearly six feet tall and _very_ muscular, but she was a head shorter than him and obviously not enough to take down the most dangerous pair of twins to ever set foot on Earth. She hoped that the rescued hostages at the mansion were safe and that no more Vespers had escaped the Interpol's (very tight) clutches.

_Zero._

"Now," Ian mouthed, immediately moving ahead of her and swinging the door open.

Blood. All she could see was scarlet blood staining the wooden floors of the bedroom. She followed the trail with her eyes, finally stopping at the body sprawled across the floor. Her eyes widened and she glanced at Ian who was glaring straight ahead. Casper grinned at them maliciously.

"I though you were on our side after we saved you from drowning," Amy said with a small voice.

Casper laughed. "You Cahills are ridiculously naive. Do you think we'll let you go after you got us captured? If you don't mind, I've gotta go. Dear Cheyenne is waiting with my bikes. I'm sure you're friends outside had a wonderful blood-fest."

As if on cue, three shots rang out, piercing the quiet neighborhood with loud blasts. Except the yells and screams of horror weren't from any males or even Sinead. A high pitched scream emitted from Cheyenne and Casper's expression become one of utmost panic and fear for his sibling. She was the one who led him. She was the brains, and he was the muscle. He couldn't live without her. She couldn't possibly be hurt. Enraged, he hurled his dagger blindly and slid out the window. Amy, who was unguarded, turned just in time but it grazed her arm. She hissed at the sharp pain, and clutched the bloodied flesh.

Casper escaped easily, and Amy trusted the rest to take care of him. She dropped to her knees and crawled towards Evan. His skin was pale and his skin had lost his warmth. His breathing was shallow and his once crystal blue eyes were slowly dimming, the color draining. She let out a choked sob before brushing his hair away from his forehead. Her hand gingerly found his and he gave her a rueful smile.

"This really sucks, doesn't it?" he joked weakly despite the situation. "I escape the bullet and the dagger comes to get me."

The tears spilled from her eyes and she furiously shook her head, holding his hand by her cheek. "No. You're going to be okay, Evan. You're not going to die. Please. You're not going to die."

"I love you, Ames," Evan choked, swallowing painfully. "You mean more than you think to me."

Amy's eyes widened and she hastily wiped the moisture away from her cheeks. "Evan - "

"Hello? Yes, I can't exactly explain. Err... Ambulance and police? Both. Yeah. Please hurry." Amy heard Ian sputter insults at the now closed phone after urging the operator to hurry. He shoved it into his pocket and sat at Evan's other side.

"You know, I haven't been the best person to you," he stated, "And I don't think I can be."

Evan grunted, squinting through his cracked glasses and struggling to keep his eyes open.

"But I suppose you're a pretty amazing person."

Amy watched as Ian fumbled while avoiding looking at the nearly dead body before him.

"The Lucians salute you, Evan Tolliver."

And the blue, blue eyes glazed over, horrible pain took its place, the rise and fall of a chest ceasing, and a strong hand going limp.

"I love you, too, Evan."


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: **Review, please. I appreciate every little word of feedback you enter :)

* * *

7.

"Amy, I need you to go home," Ian said, tearing his gaze away from the figure lying under a white bed-sheet. The hardwood floor around the area was still stained with red. "Please."

"No." Her voice was stubborn and sharp as she used her sleeve to wipe her tearing eyes. She didn't care that Casper and (half-alive) Cheyenne were being escorted to a federal prison in Europe. She didn't even bother

"Quand vous aimez quelqu'un, vouslaisser aller," he said. Even though she didn't understand the words, their enchanting sound coming from Ian was enough to convince her not to challenge him further. "Don't be crazy, Amy. _Go_."

Biting her lip, Amy debated whether or not to leave. She knew Ian could probably handle the situation (what couldn't he?). His amber eyes were sharp, and he ushered her away with a tilt of his head towards the door. Amy sighed, powering her Comms Unit back out and slipping out the door. "Be careful, Ian."

She sprinted out of the house making a racket while she stomped on the wooden floors. Discretion wasn't exactly necessary in this situation as the police were coming nearer and she had to get out before they caught 'Grace Cahill's granddaughter' committing a so-called crime. Her grandmother had really made a name for herself in the town and the world, and it was a quite hard thing to live up to.

But she would always try.

She flung open the front door of the house and sprinted towards the black convertible they had come in. Seeing Jonah and Sinead walking nearer, she jumped into the drivers' seat and revved the engine. They slid in, Sinead in the back with the boys' weapons in her hands. She threw them on the seat next to hers and took deep, gasping breathes. The car was off, Amy pressing the accelerator to 80 mph and taking sharp turns to put distance in between.

"How are they getting back?" Jonah asked.

Sinead snorted. "I don't know; the sexist idiots seemed to have everything planned out before us."

"Hey! I am a male, _thank you very much_."

"Is Cheyenne alive?" Amy asked tentatively.

"Yes," Jonah said. "I've never seen Casper _cry._ He didn't even try to attack us."

"She _is_ his sister," Sinead said quietly. "No one would want to lose their sibling. Not even the bad guy."

Her last line rendered them silent as the bittersweet reality set it, and they couldn't help but hope that Cheyenne truly did make it. The fact that Evan was dead weighed heavily on Amy's heart, and she fought the urge to stop the car and curl into a sobbing mess. She sped across the park near her home in which she would have small dates with Evan by the swings. Ignoring the building tears, she rolled into the twisting driveway and quickly locked the garage after parking the car. Sinead and Jonah stumbled out of the vehicle, grimacing at the small wounds they had obtained.

Holding her own gash made by Casper across her side, she could only hope that Ian and Hamilton were okay. They wouldn't want to have more funerals than necessary...

Amy shook her head. She was starting to go insane with her negative thinking. All she wanted to do was run up to her room and cry under her sheets. The truth had finally sunk in, despite the wishes emitted from her lips and pleading in her heart: Evan Tolliver was, indeed, dead.

o.o.O.o.o

"Ow!" Amy shrieked, flinching for the hundredth time. The pale, white liquid stung her skin, and it didn't help that Nurse Natalie Kabra had to mercy. Why did she have to be a good friend and let Nellie help Sinead? She jumped again when the girl dabbed more of the torturous acid on the wound on her side.

"Quit moving, peasant," Natalie commanded, concentration evident on her face. She reached across the kitchen counter for a first aid kit and dug through momentarily for a roll of bandages. When she had found them, she wrinkled her nose at the puce color and the blood (reminding her of the aftershock of the electrocution she healed from), and cut an appropriate length. Wrapping it around from the wincing redhead tighter than necessary, she straightened satisfied with her work.

Just as Amy was about to pull her shirt back down over the five inches of her exposed midriff, Natalie snapped her fingers. "Wait! I forgot to lock it in place with that silver clasp thingy." Amy groaned, and obliged to the command of the fifteen year old, who had been thrust into a horrid world much more too early, even before the fourteen years that Amy had been introduced in about the Cahills.

Natalie had just hastily finished the job, when a voice called, "Is Natalie here?"

They both looked up to see Ian standing awkwardly in the doorway. He leaned against the frame, clutching his abdomen which was apparently wounded. He glanced at Amy for a brief second before widening his eyes and averting his gaze. Amy realized her shirt was still ridden up and jerked it down, her expression scarlet. Natalie sprinted towards her brother and engulfed him in a hug, apologetically pulling away when she hurt him.

"Was everything okay?" Amy meekly asked as Ian took the seat opposite of her. Natalie ran back off to ask for more bandages (five people emitted too many wounds for three rolls).

He grimaced, and nodded. "Yes. They were arrested and taken to the prison hospital. They just needed to know what happened. Thank god there was no press."

"Evan?" she squeaked.

Ian hesitated before answering her. "They're going to question his parents. The two were at work and were actually inviting someone else."

Amy closed her eyes, her fingers clenching the table's edge. She felt liquid pool behind her lids and hastily wiped them away. "And you?"

Ian looked concerned for a brief second, emotion flashing across his usually blank face. "Me? What about me?"

"Are you okay?" Amy repeated, her eyes locking with his.

His mouth opened to reply after a few seconds of silence, but Natalie burst in.

"Okie dokie, Ian. Ned is going to do this because I'm needed at the CCC," she explained. "So you'll need to take off your shirt."

Amy unwillingly blushed and quickly stood, avoiding looking at Ian. She wasn't exactly all to enthusiastic to see him without his shirt (which was a white lie). She left, murmuring an apology and that she'd be in the Command Center.

Teenage hormones had their toll.

o.o.O.o.o

Jake Rosenbloom had the worst timings in the world to offer to help in the CCC. Amy only spoke a quick greeting to him, avoiding being in a three-foot radius of the Rome college graduate who was on to obtain his masters in Greece. He reminded her too much of Evan, even though they looked completely different. Before it was three boys she had been stuck between, and now it was two. Did that mean another had to die for her to finally decide? She felt that at the end, she didn't want to pick.

But the inevitable was going to come anyway.

Amy walked to the front of the room next to Fiske, who was setting up a video transmitter to contact the elder generation of the Cahills present in the room. The screen flickered on, and the teenagers gave unenthusiastic "Hello"s to their parents. Arthur gently touched her arm, saddness reflecting in his eyes. Amy bit her lip and looked away, knowing that he was also thinking of Hope Cahill, their mother.

But looking at the people behind her, she knew that they were enough to urge her on.

"Amy?"

She spun around at the call of her name and smiled tightly at Jake. She nodded, acknowledging that she had heard him.

"I'm sorry about what happened," he said sincerely, a solemn look upon his face. He searched her face for any sign or response, but she had restricted herself from showing pain. Unfortunately, it had peek through enough for him to see.

"It's not your fault, Jake," she sighed. "I shouldn't have dragged him into this."

"He _wanted_ to," he reminded her.

"Then you should leave right now and never come back," Amy said, careful not to sound rude. "It's too dangerous."

Jake's expression mirrored one of hurt, despite her efforts to be gentle. "I chose my way, Amy, and I'm afraid I'll be staying." He leaned closer, "Dan may be annoying, but he's the only think Att's got. Like you are to me."

_Why did you have to say that?_ Amy thought, internally groaning. A blushed flared across her face and onto her neck, and she could feel someone watching her every move. Ian. Without turning around, she knew his sharp gaze was directed at her. As if Jake sensed this and wanted to rebel, his lips brushed her forehead and he drew her into his arms.

Purposefully, Jake met Ian's harsh glare with one of his own. The Lucian leader had his arms crossed, and was watching him with utter disgust. The Rosenbloom mouthed one word, aware that the anger had to be contained with Amy present.

_Checkmate._


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note:** We've reached chapter eight; four more till it's a dozen. How do you like this story so far? Is the plot progressing too slow? If you need to, you can ask any question you want and I'll try my best to get back to you in the next chapter with the answer. As for now, enjoy! (The end of this chapter marks the morning of day four ever since the Cahills came.) Sorry for the late update; I was really busy.

_Many thanks to Lovely SOS for helping me with some Ian/Jake contrasting (and inspiration for the coffee incident)._

* * *

8.

A frigid breeze sliced through the warm summer air; nature's way of hinting that it was almost time for autumn's colorful leaves to take the current season's place. Most had succumbed to staying in their homes while the cool air made it's sudden appearance, and the neighborhood was darkened. Foxes prowled the roads during the night, watching as their prey trekked up a hilly street marked clearly with a warning sign meant for trespassers. Though they couldn't read, they knew always to avoid that particular street. It led to a mansion with a gate too tall to climb, and traps and sensors set about the grounds.

But tonight, the shadows near the front door far into the property wasn't empty. Tonight it had a companion; his arms crossed, staring out forward, and leaning against the oak door frame. A second person emerged from the home, and it was apparent they disliked each other. Their behavior was rigid, the hint of scowls tracing their faces.

"Kabra."

"Rosenbloom."

Only the use of last names for them, small nods of acknowledgment. The one with floppy brown hair turned to leave towards the car in the driveway, but though better of it and faced the other boy.

"You're playing games."

"And you're not?"

A pair of hands clench into tight fists, and eyes narrow viciously.

"Stay away from her."

A snort is heard from the one wearing a suit and tie, a hint of a long wound peeking through.

"I meant it, Kabra."

"Who are you to tell me what to do?"

"Give me one reason to trust that you won't repeat whatever sob-fest happened during your little Cahill Clue-Hunt."

He had struck a cord. He knew. It was a rather dangerous thing to say to a person that was the son of the most dangerous people in the world, but he couldn't help it. He was not going to be put down by someone as arrogant as _Ian Kabra_.

"I suggest you mind your own business and run home to your father. Asking for advice about Amy, I see?"

He flushed deeply, and Ian's mouth curved into a smirk.

"Don't bring my family into this. Are we forgetting the maniac that you called your mother? How about the fact she tried to kill her children to gain world domination?"

"You don't have the place to say that, Rosenbloom," was the cool response.

"The hell, I do."

"Leave. And I think _you're_ the one that needs to stay away."

"Me?" A scoff. "How many before, Kabra? You outdo even Taylor Swift in that matter."

"That is none of your business." An angry hue tints cinnamon skin.

"Answer the question, Kabra."

"Maybe you need to learn to keep out of other's people's lives."

"You're one to say. Stay out of my life."

"Then you wouldn't mind returning the favor."

One figure stomped away, the false trophy of a win in his glimmering eyes.

But when the tall, broad figure slinked into the house and watched the car speed away, he knew that he was the rightful winner.

Because Kabras _always_ win.

o.o.O.o.o

When the sun peeked through the blinds in the guest room the next morning, Ian Kabra had a faint suspicion he wouldn't be seeing a certain inferior Rosenbloom brat any time that day.

Of course, he was right.

Breakfast went rather smoothly and awfully quiet; a change from the many arguments and chaos in the last three days. It was not an act of randomness, but because of Amy. She sat the the end of the table, swirling her Cheerios. Her eyes were tinged with red, and her hair a curtain around her face.

He thought that maybe it was because of the fact the Evan's parents banned all of them from attending the funeral, which was today.

This time, though, he was dead wrong.

Every crunch of her cereal added to the throbbing in her head. She felt so confused, so lost, so incredibly hopeless. Amy knew that she should've been dealing with the conundrum of rebellions and sending Dan to help Fiske oversee the rebuilding of the Madrigal database, but she simply... couldn't.

Today was the day that the four branch leaders would be flying (or driving) out to their strongholds along the upper east coast. There were only one each (in the U.S, all the branches had three strongholds, spread out on the East Coast, the West, and along the center of the country), which meant that the job would get done that night. It was one stronghold, but the task wasn't as easy as she thought. The Madrigals had about a hundred (she wasn't sure about the other branches), and Amy herself would have to tour _at least_ a fourth of them.

Calling it tiring and tedious was an understatement.

She quickly drained the milk of her cereal, dumped it into the dishwasher, and trekked towards her room to change into more _professional_ clothes. Which meant she was stuck in a stiff dress that she wouldn't ever wear anywhere else. Nellie, who was fully aware of Amy's hopelessness in fashion, had picked up a dress for Amy. Fortunately, it was a medium shade of green, full-sleeved and with a belt looped around the waist.

Thank goodness there were flats at the foot of her bed. She wouldn't want to repeat the episode in which she wore _heels_ to a meeting. That was disastrous (and the man she had spilled her coffee on was cute).

Sighing, she glanced at the clock; 6:00 in the morning, and a faint memory of Dan's prank when the Cahills arrived made a smile creep onto her face.

Today was a long day; one she wasn't looking forward to at all.

o.o.O.o.o

Six days to rebuild the wretched database in the North, South, and Central America area.

_Six days_.

Her branch would be out of it for six days.

Amy Cahill wasn't a demanding person, but she wouldn't have it. Six days was simply too long, especially with the Cahills in a fragile state in which they were rebellions breaking out. How was she supposed to keep track of everyone? Everything else was up and running, but was connecting to the database in some way or form. And if the database was out, so were the security feeds, attendance records, and so much more. In other words, the Madrigals wouldn't exist for six days, their doors open for anyone to break in.

And Amy didn't even know who to trust anymore. Which meant she would be taking a huge risk by enforcing security guards for each Madrigal stronghold in the Americas (Central, South, and North), because they could be 'the bad guy'. She sighed; at least all the locks, sensors, security measures, and whatnot were working. She would just need people there to keep others out of the important rooms.

But who knew if the protectors were the criminals?

Balancing her bag with her laptop on her shoulder, she walked down the hall, nodding at those who stopped to tilt their heads in acknowledged, smile at her, or say a simple 'hello' (they weren't informed of the current situation, but the grim look on Amy's face was enough to convince them not to disturb her thoughts). She still wasn't used to the monumental amount of respect the title of Madrigal leader had given her, but she tried not to shy away from the spotlight.

A groan behind her made her spin around, and she saw a young woman on the ground, gathering papers that had flown out of her folder. Amy bent down to help her, and the blonde smiled shyly.

"Thanks, Ms. Cahill!"

Amy waved it off, "No problem. Do you need any help with anything else?"

Even though she had offered only to be polite, the woman actually stopped to ponder. "You could do me a favor and keep quiet," she responded, a sly grin darkening her face.

Startled, Amy quickly stood up, dropping her bag. She opened her mouth to question the woman, but a small prick at the back of her neck made her legs give way and she collapsed on the floor. Bleary eyed, she could just make out the long-legged woman leaning over her, all shyness gone and a man at her side.

"Bon voyage, Amy Cahill."


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note: **Thank you SO much for all the feedback! It really helped, and now I have a clearer idea of how I want to construct the plot. Also, as mentioned in the previous chapter(s), Casper and Cheyenne are in a federal _JAIL,_ and Cheyenne is being treated there for her wound. Anyway, enjoy, and keep the inspiring reviews coming! :)

Sorry this update is so short :( The next is much, much, much longer.

To tell you the truth, I don't really feel like writing Amy anymore. But seeing that this is a bit AU from the books in the sense of Natalie alive, and Jake not Amy's boyfriend, I enjoy writing this.

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9.

One hundred Lucians missing.

_One, bloody, hundred_.

The branch with the best security measures, brilliant state-of-the-art equipment, and a database _impossible_ to break into. A group where loyalties lasted until death, and if broken, resulted in death itself. The people who only accepted the best of the best, and had the potential to break into Fort Knox with only a small bag of tools - even though they were the ones that owned it.

It was also the branch with the sliest human beings to graze the earth.

He should've seen it coming, but he didn't. It was his fault - why didn't he try to live up to the expectations of others? Isabel and Vikram's ways may have been wrong, but they knew how to handle their branch and did it quite successfully. He was, as his parents called him, an utter _failure_.

Ian Kabra threw down the last inch-thick manila folder onto his desk and spun his rolling chair to glare out the one way glass windows. He could see the Lucians move about their business, unaware they were being watched and that Ian had a conundrum on his hands, and unable to see inside his office.

Life was easier back then, but it was also crueler.

Just as he grabbed for his coat, a small ring emitted from his phone, calling to his attention that he had a text. Since this was his personal number, it most likely wasn't a call for and arsenal check, so he powered the device on.

Two texts, one from Daniel Cahill, and another from an unmarked number. Normally, he would ignore any texts from the younger brat, but times were different (and normality was very far, indeed). His eyes widened and his jaw tightened.

_Amy's gone. Dad missing as well. Blood. Need you home ASAP. You just might be in danger_.

A shrill silence pierced the stale air of the room, and Ian looked up when the lights darkened, replaced with blaring red. As he read the next text from what he assumed to be a wrong number, Ian knew that a hasty exit was in need, even if it meant his branch would collapse momentarily.

_We have your infatuation trapped in a cage. Feel afraid, yet, dear son_?

Vikram Kabra was on the move.

o.o.O.o.o

White light shone directly onto her closed eyelids, causing Amy to jerk away. She squinted at the beam, and struggled to open her drowsy eyes. When she did, marble floors and blindingly white walls came into view, their surfaces ridiculously clean. One portion of the wall before her was made of metal; she presumed it was probably a doorway. There was a bed with a stiff mattress, but no other furniture. A small door was ajar in the corner of the room, revealing the tiled surface of walls. Surprisingly enough, there were no binds on her, but her body felt bruised and battered.

Her once pretty dress was filled with mud and teared in some parts as if she'd been thrown in the mud. She could feel a gash cutting across her collarbone, and when she lifted her hand to touch it, she winced. Every bit of movement was painful. How was she to escape, if she were to get the chance to do so?

The sound of something striking metal echoed through the room and she stood up suddenly, ignoring the aches in her body. The door slid open, and a tall man stepped in, a wicked smile gleaming on his face. He shot Amy a dangerous glare, but she defiantly stared back at him. Jet black hair was swept across his forehead, amber eyes gleaming. He had a royal and important air about him and instantly, Amy knew who he was.

The resemblance was sharp as day. The haughty demeanor, tall height, the eyes, the hair, and the perfect cinnamon skin. The silk, white shirt, red tie, the black pants, and dress shoes. Every part of him brought back a rush of memories. The glare from her days in the Clue-Hunt about four years ago, but from a boy much younger.

Vikram Kabra.

Her eyes narrowed and her small hands instinctively tightened into fists. "Vikram," she said quietly.

He rolled his eyes and pursed his lips. "I'd prefer to be addressed, with, perhaps Mr. Kabra or something of respect, no?"

"You kidnap me - " she started.

"Obviously," he interrupted, his accent thickened with sarcasm.

" - and now you ask me to _respect_ you?" Amy said. "Want do you want with me?"

Vikram scanned her with disgust evident on his face, causing Amy to grow self-conscious. Though this was the man that abandoned his children and was Isabel Kabra's husband - no less pompous and chaotic.

"I want death," he answered promptly, his hand slipping into his pocket. Amy stiffened, but with a smirk he withdrew his hand, empty. "I want you to do my bidding."

"No."

He opened his mouth to continue, but stopped abruptly and stared at her. "_What?_"

"I said, _no_." She should've felt scared, but now, she was just furious. There was no way she would succumb to the charms of Vikram Kabra, nor would she become a murderer.

She barely comprehended his movement, and soon there was the barrel of a weapon digging into her neck.

"You _will_ obey me," he gritted, causing blood to draw from her skin when he increased the pressure. His hand curled around her neck in a tight hold, and her eyes widened. "Or I'll be sure to make your life a living hell."

He drew away, and Amy dropped to her knees, gasping for breath. She wiped the scarlet liquid away and looked at him, hatred gleaming in her now forest green colored eyes. He threw a manila envelope in front of her, papers spilling out. Amy glanced at it, and her breathing momentarily ceased.

Pictures.

There were pictures.

From her birthday, her furiously glaring at Dan, greeting the visitors, and many of the individual Cahills. There were several of what Amy thought to be the Lucian's main stronghold - Ian staring at his cellphone, his face visible in red lights. She looked back up at Vikram, and he smirked, knowing that she had finally broken.

"Fine," she said, her voice breaking slightly. "What do you want me to do?"

She regretting answering immediately, as Vikram's amber eyes darkening to nearly black. A grin spread across his face, blindingly white teeth visible. His black dress shoes scraped the floor, and his gaze intensified.

"I want you to kill my son."


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note: **The long update is next; it has a bunch of Amian/Iamy feels so look forward to that. I'd appreciate it if all of you left a review... I also posted a contest and would love it if you entered :) Also, (I know I'm asking this again) do you think the story is going too fast, too slow, or is it fine?

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10.

It was an odd feeling when on the other end of the barrel of a gun. Of course, it was nothing Amy Cahill had never experienced before, but it felt _chilling,_ nonetheless. One click, and she would die. The small silver weapon held the fate for her life, or her death. And now, that gun was in the hand of Vikram Kabra, who seemed like he just couldn't stop smirking.

_Like father, like son,_ she recalled dryly. But she quickly discarded that thought. Ian would never try to kill her, would he? Then again, here she was, being transported at the back of a sleek limousine filled with guards with their weapons trained at her, to put his life to the end.

She simply didn't know what to do. It was the raw moment of hopelessness again, and she wanted to withdraw into that safe cocoon inside of herself. She promised not to, though, and it was already too late. Vikram Kabra was a very dangerous man, indeed, perhaps even more than his madwoman of a wife. Did he even care that he lost her, or that he almost came close to losing his daughter as well? Vikram Kabra seemed fine off, even though the entire estate was in Ian's hands - which he was struggling to hold up with the three pressures of his sister, the Lucians, and the art business. And there was also upholding the Kabra name and being careful as to not be shunned by the press.

Life was hard enough as it was - but Vikram Kabra just _had_ to create an uprising within the branches.

_I want you to kill my son._

What kind of father wanted someone to murder their son for them?

_The type that's married to Isabel Kabra_.

Amy scoffed at her own though and Vikram studied her at the end, Isabel came through and tried to avenge her daughter's supposed death, even though Natalie came through at the end.

She turned her head towards the windows, but they were completely black. It was odd sitting in a limousine in the company of a very well dressed man when she was in the same tattered and bloodied dress she wore when she was first captured. She felt as if she was sitting inside of a dark box; no way to see outside, wave to someone, or know where she had been held while taken hostage. She looked at Vikram who was busy smirking at his cellphone.

"Who was the blonde you hired to nab me?" she asked conversationally. As if people actually had polite conversations with their kidnappers.

"Just a contact of mine," he said, not averting his gaze. "The Wyomings were supposed to do it, but they landed themselves in prison." His expression turned into one of disgust and he scowled at Amy as if it were her fault (and it was).

"Oh," Amy said. She felt the car slowing from the ridiculously fast speed it was going and Vikram reached into the briefcase resting on the floor of the vehicle. He popped open the lid, and it revealed syringes, all organized neatly. Amy tensed, her hands curling into fists, as he withdrew a beige colored one and attached the long needle. She shifted away from him and she heard a gun from one of the three guards click into place. She glared at him.

"What are you doing?" she asked, fighting to keep her voice steady.

"This'll just keep you unconscious until we drop you off at your... home," Vikram said. Amy squeezed her eyes shut, and avoided flinching when the needle drew near her arm.

"Is this necessary?" she squeaked.

"Unless you would like to die," Vikram drawled. He picked up a small vile and handed it to Amy. "You'll be using this to kill Ian." He said it with such casualty, it was as if he were suggesting she take a walk in the part. Amy shakily placed the scarlet bottle in her pocket. She would be killing Ian, unless she wanted everyone to die.

Unless she could come up with a better plan.

And before she could prepare herself, the long needle broke the skin of her arm and the poison was flowing through her veins. Slowly, she felt everything fade black, a restless slumber pulling her under.

The last thing she heard were Vikram Kabra's parting words.

"You have two weeks."

o.o.O.o.o

Ian anxiously paced the living room, ignoring Jake Rosenbloom's silly idea that Ian should be the one to call for Lucians to help find Amy. The college-born boy was simply a fool, and Ian couldn't even bear to _look_ at him. The rest of the Cahills sat on various couches and floors, and Dan was the only other one pacing, except on the other side of the room. His eyes were puffy, but he was hiding them well for a boy who's father and sister were missing.

"God, Kabra, why can't you pay atten - " Jake started.

"Shut up!" Ian snapped, at the same time as Natalie did. It was clear she disliked Jake just as much as Ian. The Starling's constant clicking on their computers ceased, and the rest of the Cahills grew silent, watching. Nellie was huddled on a couch with a dozen tissue boxes and Fiske was rubbing his temples in distress.

"Do you even _know_ what's going on?" Ian asked. "Has it occurred to your bloody stupid brain that my _father_ might have Amy _and_ Arthur? That he's leading the rebellion that's causing mayhem?"

Jake's mouth snapped shut.

"Before trying to _instigate_ me so you can find some excuse to make me look like the bloody _villain,_ gets your facts straight," Ian said, gritting his teeth.

His mind was on overload; frustration and desperation crowded it. He walked out of the living room with long, swift strides, and started towards his room. He needed some time alone. His family, the Kabras, was nothing but a bloodline of murderers and criminals. His mother, now his father. He was now deemed the bad guy for everything that happened to the Cahills. It was absolutely maddening.

And Amy was gone. She nearly chose Jake Rosenbloom over him, and then she has to be a _lovely_ person, causing Ian not to hate her. Who could hate someone who wore stars on their heart and saw through people for who they truly were? Why was it that the best people received the worst from others? She was kidnapped, by _his_ father. Natalie was right; he _was_ hopelessly in love with the girl. And now his family had to ruin everything all over again.

Even if he did earn her heart, she'd always be too good for him.

The doorbell to the mansion rang, and he scowled, turning back towards the foyer hall. "What the bloody hell is it now?"

He heard Dan coming towards the door, but went to open it himself. Grasping the bronze doorknob, he flung it open to glare at the ringer.

It too late that he realized that no one should have been able to get past the front gates without permission.

His eyes widened, and he fell to his knees, searching for any vehicle or person near the home.

On the doorstep lay Amy Cahill, the rise and fall of her chest slowing by the moment.

Ian froze, gently brushing red locks of hair away from her face. Her eyes were closed and her breathing was very faint. Her skin was several shades paler, and littered with cuts and bruises. Her dress, the one Ian remembered to see when she left for the Madrigal headquarters, was ripped in many places. He gently moved her inside, on the carpet of the entrance hall. He swallowed hard, trying to moisten his dry mouth. "_Daniel_," he called. "Your sister - "

He didn't need to finish for everyone rushed in at once. Nellie shrieked and burst into tears, completely unlike herself. Fiske, being the composed adult he was, asked Jake, Hamilton, Reagan, Ned, Nellie, and Jonah to search for clues as to who left Amy. Jake left with a scowl, despite the relief evident on his face.

"Ames?" Dan gently shook Amy and then turned his wide, jade eyes on Ian. "She isn't dead, is she?"

Ian shook his head. "She's still breathing. But we'll have to move her to - "

"Already on it," Sinead said.

"Ian, can you carry her over?" Fiske asked. Ian nodded, his hands sliding under her shoulders and legs, easily lifting her fragile body. He laid her on the white sheets of the bed.

Natalie stood near him. "Father didn't... kill her, did her?" she asked shakily.

Ian looked at his sister, and she met his eyes with a pained expression. "No, he didn't, but we're not like them."

She shrugged in response and slouched out of the room, disregarding the posture she worked so hard to maintain all the time.

Ian gazed at Amy's sleeping figure, peaceful despite the cuts and bruises. Leaning down, he gently brushed his lips against her forehead, leaving the room when he heard footstep coming closer.

"Doux rêves, l'amour."


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note:** I'm really sorry that I was not able to update sooner. My plan was to do it one or two days ago, but then I wasn't feeling all that great and was completely wiped out. I hope the chapter was worth your wait, and please leave a review as to how you thought it was. Thanks :) I had so much fun writing this, that I didn't even realize it came out this long. I'm pretty sure you'll be happy with this update :)

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11.

_Beep_.

Amy turned in her sleep, groaning at the annoying sound interrupting her glorious slumber. She drifted off again, melting into a relaxed world in which she had a library with bookshelves stretching up towards the sky. Higher they reached, more and more shelves reaching upwards, each filled with another exciting adventure, or more information she couldn't wait to get her hands on.

_Beep. Beep_.

There it was again, that shrill siren. She squeezed her eyes shut and concentrated on what the ink signatures of her favorite authors had looked like in her dreams. The black script against smooth white paper was amazingly calming. All she needed to was reach out, and then that paper would be in her hands. As she returned to her state of stillness, she sighed as her fingers were about to graze the books' surfaces.

_Beep! Beep! Beep!_

When she turned head in slumber, and irritating beam of light shot straight towards her eye. Combined with the alarm-type of sound, she couldn't do anything but wake up. Her eyes flew open, and she stared at the glowing stickers shaped like stars on her ceiling. She faintly remembered Dan making fun of her when she told Fiske that she wanted to buy those, even though they were in the children's section of the hardware store. She sighed contently, and took in the scent of books that made up her room. She turned her head slightly and saw a tall IV drip that connected to her hand. As she examined her room causally in a daze caused by the drugs, she gasped and sat up quickly.

She was home. Finally, she was home.

But the sense of relief came with dread. Her heart squeezed in her chest and she gasped in pain, dropping back on the bed.

_Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!_

Amy saw the source of the noise; it was a heart monitor. It was constantly spiking as her breathing became harder and harder, and she heard the thumps of someone running up stairs. Her door flew open and Sinead rushed in, her hair flying behind her in a low ponytail. Barely acknowledging Amy's terrified face, Sinead quickly fiddled with the monitor, attached another drip into Amy's left arm, and anxiously stared at the monitor. As the slow beeps returned to normal, Sinead sighed, and then turned to her friend. She grinned.

"Amy! You're awake! How are you doing?" she asked. "You've been out for two whole days ever since... erhmm..." She thought otherwise and clamped her mouth shut, smiling at Amy as if to reassure her that nothing was wrong and as if nothing had happened to her friend.

"Where's Ian?" Amy suddenly demanded, sitting upright. Sinead pushed her back down on the bed, and didn't bother teasing Amy about her first words that she'd uttered since she woke. Instead, she stared at her friend in confusion as Amy bit her lip in urgency.

Sinead glanced towards the doorway. "Why do you need to see Ian?" she asked, glancing at the doorway.

"Because Vi-" Amy's hand flew to her mouth when she remembered that her captor had told her that he was watching her secretly. She couldn't tell anyone, and she definitely couldn't tell Ian. Not unless she wanted everyone to die. Her mind was in a whirlwind as she grew short of breath again, panicking when she realized she had no idea what to do to save everyone. And the rebellion was getting worse... She felt helpless.

Sinead gave her an odd look and a once-over. Amy blushed, then realized that she was in her pajamas. "Where's my dress?" she shrieked. The vial was in the dress. She couldn't loose it, and she'd be trapped if someone _did_ find it. Wide eyed, Sinead looked back at her with her hands up in surrender.

"Nellie threw it away. It was nearly shredded... And, umm, we had some Madrigal nurse change you out of everything..." Sinead replied, shuffling on her feet.

Amy glanced at Sinead's mildly shocked expression, and sighed. "Sorry, Sinead. I just... I'm a mess," she finished lamely. "Do you think you could let Ian or Dan in? I need to tell - umm... see if they're alright."

"Okay, then. Feel better, Cahill. I need my best friend," Sinead replied with a grin, leaving the room.

As soon as the door shut behind her, Amy leaped out of bed and checked her drawers, the bathroom, _anywhere_ for that blue vial. She quickly grew tired, and when she heard those footsteps near the door again, she slipped back in her bed, trying to act as if she weren't searching for some poison that would potentially end up killing Ian.

"AMY!"

Dan burst through the door and hugged his sister. His eyes were red, and a silly grin was lighting up his face. Amy ruffled his hair, knowing that her disappearing had hit him hard. "Hey, Dan."

He rubbed his reddened nose. "How are you feeling?"

"Never better," Amy said, grinning at her IV drip. "Where's Dad? And Nellie and Fiske?"

Dan's expression seemed to drop considerably. "Nellie and Fiske are sleeping."

Amy glanced at her clock and saw it was nearly five-thirty, which was sunrise. She felt bad for waking Sinead, and then having her call for Ian. "And Dad?"

"Dad..." Dan hesitated, his eyes watering. "Dad disappeared."

Dan saw his sister's eyes fill with tears before they finally spilled over. "They - " Dan sniffled. "They're saying it's Vikram 'cause Cobra got a text from him and - " He rubbed his eyes. "But we almost know where he is, and Amy, _stop crying_!"

Amy wiped her eyes furiously, curling into her pillow. "Go ahead and go to sleep, Dan," she said.

"But I don't want to leave you alone."

"It's fine," she said, prodding him. "You've awaken five hours earlier than usually. I know it's killing you," she joked, seeing his weary eyes. Dan rolled his eyes and trudged back towards his room, knowing that it was no use arguing with his sister. As Amy listened to the soft beeps emitting from the monitor on her side, she yawned, drifting off to sleep despite her urgency to see if Ian was alright. She blinked to keep from falling asleep, and cursed the sleeping medication that would calm the pain in her body. But Sinead knew what she was doing, and Amy was thankful for a great friend.

When she finally succumbed to the pull of her sleepiness, she could faintly hear the call of her name and someone closing the door behind them.

And seeing those deep amber eyes was all she needed to fall into an undisturbed sleep.

o.o.O.o.o

When Amy awoke again, it was thankfully because she had run out of restlessness and was finally fully awake. Unfortunately, it was eleven at night. She could hear people talking downstairs, so she knew everyone was awake. It wasn't a rare thing for all of them to fall asleep hours past midnight and rise a bit after dawn; they _were_ Cahills after all.

She felt something warm covering her hand, and saw that long fingers were laced with her own. Her mouth dropped open when she saw that Ian had pulled up her desk chair next to her bed. He was asleep; his head resting at the side of her bed. His hair was ruffled, and his face was clearly tired. He was wearing a wrinkled navy colored polo shirt, with jeans. She stifled a giggle when she noticed it, and grinned at how normal Ian was becoming.

Well, as normal as he could become.

He looked so normal, so _peaceful_ when he was asleep. She liked him this way; she could see through the mask he put on himself, and be able to see those little imperfections that he hid. But she liked them; they were what made him all the more _real_.

Warm breathes came slowly from his mouth, slightly open and set in a straight line. Even when he wasn't awake, Ian was frowning. Amy propped herself onto the elbow of the arm that Ian was holding on to.

She hesitantly reached out with her other hand, and touching his face gently. She jerked back at the electrifying touch, and reached out again. His cinnamon skin was unbelievable soft, and he seemed to lean into her touch. She ran her hand across his soft lips, then across his cheeks. She traced across his strong jawline and could feel the slight texture of a stubble. She knew the current stream of events was the cause of his tiredness.

She carefully let her fingers flutter over his eyelids, and then across his forehead. She brushed the soft, inky strands of hair away from his face, and let herself run her hands through his curly hair - something she had admittedly wanted to do for some time. She just stayed like that; one minute, two, time passed and she kept studying him.

After a few more minutes, his eyes suddenly flew open, and he squinted to adjust to the light. Amy quickly drew her hand back from his jaw, and blushed. She was about to let go of his hand, but he held it tighter and she obliged. Her cheeks flushed, but she met Ian's warm amber eyes with her viridian orbs.

His hand tightened around hers, tracing up her arm. It was then he was leaning over, and she was pulling him closer and tugging him down. He gently leaning over her figure, tangled in sheets, brushing the hair out of her eyes and running his fingers through the strands splayed across her pillow. Their eyes met, and fluttered closed and Ian leaned in to brush his lips ever so slightly against hers. Shivers ran down her spine, and Amy's arms pulled Ian further. Their lips finally met, and the arm that wasn't supporting himself slid under Amy and tightened around her waist.

The kiss was sweet and soft, passionate and much anticipated, tinged with their rueful smiles. Their lips moved together perfectly and as if sensing her need for air, Ian briefly pulled away. He traced light kisses across her jaw and neck, and she shuddered all the while. Pulling his back towards her, his lips met hers again and she lost herself in his touch, his smell, and how he caused her body to warm and reach heights of energy.

When he finally pulled away, she was breathless and judging by his own harsh breathing, so was he. His lips brushed against hers once more, his eyes were closed. His hand brushed against her cheek, and when she looked at him, she saw that his eyes were moist and his expression was pained.

"Don't ever leave me again."


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note:** I know I have many followers and favoriters, and I'd appreciate it if some of you would _please_ drop a review as to how you liked this chapter. The next one is going to be very intense. This story is getting really long XD

Also, I posted a new 39 Clues x Chronicles of Narnia crossover story. It's called _Cahill Chronicles: The Forgotten Souls _and I'm quite excited about it because it's probably the only story I have perfectly drawn out...

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12.

There was peace.

There was quietness.

Amy Hope Cahill absolutely hated it.

She'd only been back for two days, and she felt as if it had been eons. No one would let her leave the room; even her food was brought to her. There was always someone coming to check up one her, whether it be Sinead or her siblings, or the Holts or Fiske, Dan and Nellie. Whenever Natalie came, she always had an expression of terribly guilt, which confused Amy. She had momentarily thought that it was because the Kabra girl's father was the one causing this. With a mother of the same nature, how were the two Kabra children ever to be able to let go of their horrible past?

It had been two days, and it seemed that it was a rule that someone had to peek into her room every half hour. Ian had only come once or twice, and each time he'd lean against the door and watch her read or helped her pick up the books strewn across her bedroom floor. They didn't speak a word to one another, nor did they even touch. She often caught his gaze lingering on her, and every time she'd just blush and look away. It had been as if the kiss simply hadn't happened. As if he hadn't held her until she fell asleep; as if he hadn't admitted to her that he _needed_ her.

Along with his formality towards her, she had to deal with the burden of needing to kill him or come up with a better plan otherwise, all because of Vikram Kabra. The choice he had told her to make was ridiculous - either to kill his son, or have all her other relatives be killed along with Ian by his own hand. She was completely bound to his terms, and how was she supposed to rebel against him when he was somehow watching her all the time? He had made a threat, and she had believed it. Words made by Vikram Kabra were not to be taken lightly.

She still hadn't found the vial of poison and couldn't figure out where it had disappeared to. If someone had found it, her secret was out. They'd start asking questions, but as of then, no one did. She was always tense, anticipating the moment when someone would burst into her room with a pair of handcuffs.

But nothing happened and it was scaring her.

Amy stumbled off of her desk chair and into the bathroom to wash her face. Splashing cool water, she stared at her bloodshot eyes in the mirror, deciding a warm shower would help her relax her tense muscles. When she emerged twenty minutes later to stare at the fogged mirror, she screamed.

Written in the mist and next to a drawing of a small bottle were these words:

_Two days, Ms. Cahill_.

Immediately after her yell, she heard someone knock on the bathroom door. Heart pounding, she continued to stare at the words inscribed on the mirror.

"Amy? Everything alright?" Nellie asked, her voice clearly concerned.

She bit her lip and lied, "Yes, I just... slipped on the floor a bit. I'm fine..."

"Okay, then. Call for someone if anything hurts, 'kay?"

Forgetting that no one would be able to see her, Amy nodded. She reached out towards the mirror and swiped at the edge of the drawing of the bottle. When her finger came away moist, she knew that someone had used some sort of oil. They could have done it before hand, and when the bathroom fogged, the message would suddenly appear. Someone knew when she was going to come take a bath, and ran here to write the message down. It had probably been done with a glove, but even if Amy wanted to, she couldn't run any tests on it.

The secret would be out.

It was then that she knew Vikram's threat was well placed. He was watching her. Every moment of her life, he knew where she was and what she was doing. The question was, how was he doing it? Did he have someone sneak into the mansion? As hard as it would be, a Lucian would still be able to surpass the defenses put outside of the mansion. She trusted everyone within the home with her life, which ruled out the possibility of Vikram having a spy within her family.

Amy damped a towel and wiped the message away.

o.o.O.o.o

Clad in a plain, green long-sleeved shirt and a blue, loose pajama bottom, Amy pushed her socked feet forward, gliding over the tiles of the kitchen. Surprisingly enough, there was no one there and it allowed her to sneak downstairs. The confinement in her room was driving her absolutely _nuts_, and she breathed in the fresh air coming in from the window. The sun was out bright and it was noon, and she knew that everyone was probably busy in the CC, or out traveling to the various strongholds. She bit her lip and looked around, realization dawning on her that Vikram had probably recovered the vial himself. She wouldn't be surprised if he hid for her to find again.

And placing it in the kitchen where anyone could end up _drinking_ it seemed like his thing to do.

A few minutes later, she had covered all of the top shelves and cabinets, and the ones near the bottom. All she had left were the cabinets near the ceiling, and the pantry. Since the topmost cabinets would take some time, she decided to check the pantry full of snacks, candy, and all of Dan's junk food. After the kitchen, she wanted check all the other rooms when no one was looking.

Amy opened the mahogany doors of the pantry, and the first thing her eyes landed on was the blue vial. She blinked, and there it was, right in plain sight. She couldn't help but exhale a sigh of relief. It was a bit odd that it was in such an obvious place that everyone visited, but she pushed those doubtful thoughts away and focused on the fact that she finally found it. She reached for it, but before her fingers could close over it, she was yanked backwards and the cool metal of a dagger pressed against the skin of her neck.

"Et vious, Amelia?" Ian asked hoarsely behind her. "I should have known he had put _you_ up to it."

Terrified, all thoughts of trying to escape his grasp drained out of her. She squeezed her eyes shut and swallowed hard, her hands curling into loose fists. "Ian, let me explain."

He dryly chuckled and lowered the dagger. "And what is there to explain?"

Rubbing her neck, she turned around and faced him. He was in gear, which probably meant he had been out for Lucian-related work. The dagger was sheathed once again next to the other weaponry hanging from his belt. His glare was fierce, and expression stony, which made her want to break down and cry in guilt. His mask had been put up again, hiding himself from her. Why had she even _thought_ of doing Vikram's bidding?

She wouldn't do it at all. She was going to fight back, instead of cowering like a fool and letting the man get to her. He had threatened her family, and she would do anything to make sure it was not carried out. There was no way Vikram was going to kill her loved ones, nor was he going have the satisfaction of knowing that Amy Cahill had killed his son for him.

Ian was still staring at her expectantly.

"How did you... _know_ in the first place?" she asked him.

Ian rolled his eyes. "I wanted an answer, not to be interrogated," he said. With a pause, he added anyway, "I found it in the pocket of your dress when you first appeared back home. The poison is well known to me."

"Oh," Amy said, her eyes darting back to it. "What does it do? Cause someone to suffer a long and painful death?"

His eyes flashed dangerously, and he took a step closer to her. "Exactly," he answered. "One drop, and it will feel as if you were to explode." He took another step closer, and Amy backed away slightly. "It causes the drinker's organs to burn; the person will wither in excruciating pain as his insides crumble. His skin was feel as is it had erupted into flames, his head will pound so harshly, he'll want to tear his hair out." He further walked closer to Amy, and she gasped her her back hit the pantry. The contents of one shelves wobbled a bit, before crashing to the ground.

Including the blue vial. The glass broke, and the liquid within it sizzled, bubbling slightly before emitting a faint white smoke. Ian barely glanced at it as his eyes bore into Amy's.

"The poison will keep the drinker alive as his skin melts away, as his bones begin to twist and protrude. He'll turn blind at the last stage, and probably will be completely unable to talk as acidic bile would have risen up his throat." There was no more space between them, and Ian leaned closer, his eyes staying connected with her frightened jade orbs as she stared at him. "The drinker will be in complete agony for days. But he will not die."

Amy sucked in a startled breathe as shivers worked their way done her spine. Ian's hands ran up her arms, before pinning them by the wrist to the wall behind her. "And he'll perish, little by little, every day, for exactly two weeks. He'll want to die every moment of the torture, but he simply won't. At the end, it's come done to a blindingly white light only he can see that causes him to take his last breath."'

She trembled, but Ian paid no mind. She was sure they were breathing in the same area of air, now. She felt his warm breath fan her neck, and his face was only a centimeter away from hers as he pressed against her. His amber eyes were darkened to nearly smoldering black, and his expression was dangerous. She was completely frozen in place as Ian spoke.

"He'll take in the last breath, and then it'll be over." His voice quieted to nearly a whisper. "And then he'll simple be dead." Amy swallowed hard, her body suddenly weakening. Her knees buckled, but Ian held her upright by increasing the grip on her arms. "There won't be a single bone to bury."

Ian let her free, stepping away with a disgusted glance towards her, and the broken vile. His leather boots crunched over the broken glass, and he simply walked away. Amy took a deep breath and her back slid down the wall behind her, her eyes widened in terror. She heard the front door click shut, but the sound was faint compared to her pounding heart.

And she knew that with the slam of the front door, Ian had probably walked right out of her life.


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's Note: **Chapter thirteen, but I hope it doesn't seem like an unlucky one to you ;) Not much to say here, except that I'd appreciate it if my dear readers would drop a review. Let's say, ten for an update?

* * *

13.

Jake flopped down on the swivel chair, spinning it around and glancing at the family of dangerous freaks around him.

The Starlings were bent over the computers lined up at the side of the Command Center and were showing Nellie profiles of the disappeared Cahills. Fiske was absorbed with the Holts' new found hacking skills, and Jonah was listening in with a curious face as to how _they_ managed to make progress. Atticus and Dan were being useful for once; they both were sifting through any 'suspicious' looking documents within the computers of the rebel members of their family. Natalie was attempting to record every poison and weapon that had been stolen from their branch arsenal and supply.

But then there was that tense atmosphere between Amy and Ian that everyone seemed to notice, yet avoided commenting upon.

He curiously watched those fleeting glances Amy shot towards Ian, filled with worry, regret, and most of all, guilt. Jake couldn't comprehend what she could've done to him; he'd always imagine Ian as the culprit because causing someone grief went completely against Amy's personality. Inside, he felt some sort of pride at the occurrence. He wouldn't have the Kabra meddling around anymore. Although, he knew it wouldn't be as easy as his mind was making it out to be. Amy would drown herself in guilt for whatever she had done and seclude herself from the rest of the word.

When he had gotten the call that she had returned, Dan wouldn't let him come until a few days later. This was the first time he was seeing her since her short disappearance into the clutches of Vikram Kabra. She had barely acknowledged him, except for a tiny smile when he enveloped her in a hug and exclaimed how happy he was to see her. She had just drifted off after that, and told him that he didn't need to burden himself with the problems of her family. Of course, he replied that he was going to, no matter how much she'd tell him not to.

Which was why he was scrolling through a coding for the Tomas security system (because no other branch would let him do theirs, and Hamilton was too busy glowering at his computer when it failed to break through the defenses of some odd file he had found).

Jake studied Ian with his eyes narrowed. The Kabra's movements were rigid and his face was absolutely stony. He knew that Ian and Amy had a horrible past which was mainly Ian's fault, so why was Amy taking all the blame for whatever she did to Ian? It wasn't like she tried to _kill_ him, or anything...

Or did she? The Rosenbloom boy remembered the sharp intake of a breath and how a look was quickly exchanged between Ian and Amy when Jake mentioned that there was a large burn on the floor in the kitchen. The wooden floor was scorched black, and Amy had just shrugged and quickly said that she had dropped a pan filled with hot oil there. There was a glare towards Amy from Ian, which she returned with a frightened look while biting her lip. Amy was a horrible liar, and Jake saw right through it.

So what the _hell_ was going on?

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that it had already struck ten thirty. His father would worry; they were due to go on a trip to Rome the next day. He felt bad for being gone for five more months until summer vacation (and he didn't want to leave Amy to Ian), but he had to leave to go back to college. He valued his education, and he wasn't even a Cahill himself, which gave him no reason to worry and help with their conundrum.

Besides, he made it clear already that he was doing it for Amy, and _only_ for her.

"Come on, Atticus," Jake called across the room, piercing the silence. Everyone turned to look at him, "We've got to go. Tomorrow the last day of my break and we have some school. I really wish we could've stayed. Is there anything we can do?"

Everyone turned to Amy, who seemed to become their spokesperson. Her shoulders sagged, and she glanced at Ian (which she did often before making decisions. It was like he was her consultant, and they communicated solely on expressions). Ian tilted his head slightly towards the door, and Amy looked between Atticus and Jake.

"Thanks, guys," she said, giving them a tight-lipped smile. "I really appreciate everything. See you in the summer?"

Jake nodded. "I'll be looking forward until then. I hope this will be settled before that. I'll miss you, Amy," he said, turning to clamp his hand on his brother's shoulder.

When he walked out the door, he couldn't help but wonder why she didn't return his words.

o.o.O.o.o

Bent over her laptop and listening intently into her earpiece, Amy watched with weary eyes as Jake roughly shouldered past Ian. The Kabra simply stepped aside, smirking at the growl that Jake directed towards him without raising his eyes to acknowledge the Rosenbloom. Atticus trailed behind like the confused child he was, exchanging an amused smile with Natalie. When Ian turned around and his gaze met hers, he frowned and looked away.

She sighed, rubbing her eyes in frustration.

Amy trudged over to the long table in the center of the Cahill Command Room and plopped down on the head seat.

"What branches are up and running?" she asked everyone when they had seated themselves.

"The Ekats are back in business, and I only need ten minutes to get the Tomas done," Sinead said, smiling dryly.

Hamilton nodded, "And I've helped Jonah with the Janus, and it looks like we're just about finished."

"Yeah, I just need to file some reports, and that's that," Jonah added.

"Okay," Amy said, rubbing her throbbing temples. "My Madrigals have the least gone, but they've left the most damage. Dan has surprisingly been able to make all the profiles of those that have disappeared," she said, allowing a small smile for her brother. He had really grown up, and was more willing to take responsibilities than before.

In reply, Dan stuck his tongue out at her.

She rolled her eyes, knowing that his maturity level probably hadn't increased since he was five.

Amy looked at Ian, who was gnawing on his bottom lip while staring at his cellphone. He still hadn't answered her, and before she could say anything, he said, "My branch will need more time. These are the _Lucians_ - "

" - and we don't know who to trust," Natalie completed.

Amy frowned, knowing that all the betrayals within their family had probably hit Natalie the hardest. The poor girl didn't have on any lip gloss; it looked as if Natalie hadn't even bothered to put on any makeup at all. She was wearing the same clothes as yesterday, and their were those rare circles around her eyes. The normal Natalie would say that she looked hideous when she looked in the mirror.

But normality was a rare thing, indeed, for the Cahills.

"Okay," Fiske said, "Why don't the younger ones go to sleep, and the rest of us will wrap up for today in about an hour or two." He gave pointed looks to Reagan, Natalie, Madison, and Dan, who surprisingly left without a single protest. For once, they were completely worn out.

"Umm, Uncle Fiske?" Amy asked. "Do we have anything on where Dad has gone?"

"Oh," Fiske said, suddenly brightening. "When he left, he mentioned he was off to some Madrigal associate to get some work done. Seeing as this person is rather important and... conservative, I think this is the reason he hasn't contacted us." He powered on the wall screen and clicked a video surveillance of a Madrigal stronghold in Russia. "The contact is in Moscow, and your father's on the radar, see?" He pointed to a slightly grainy image, which was clearly Arthur Trent. He looked tired, but completely healthy while leaning over what seemed to be a sack on the ground.

Amy let out the breath she had held and slumped back against her chair. He father was safe; she had just become paranoid without reason. She herself had to go completely undercover to meet someone and had to cut off all means of communication with others.

But there was still that uncomfortable tug in the pit of her stomach that told her something wasn't right.

Amy powered up the wall-mount screen and opened up a folder with the information of all their contacts around the world. She scrolled down to Russia, and then clicked into the list that said Moscow. Despite its large size, it was rare that they had problems in Russia (but Amy was sure that Ian did, considering the amount of Lucians in the country). The Madrigals only had six important contacts in Moscow, which meant it would be easier to narrow down. She read the names on the six files quietly.

_Alisa Veis _

_Samuel Arnold_

_Elena Oleg_

_Dmitri Feliks_

_Monroe Gregorian _

_Stephen Spasky_

Her eyes widened at the last one.

Spasky.

Could he be related to Irina, perhaps? But the name itself was so common in Russia... Surely they had more than one Spasky. Amy quickly exited out of the file and typed _Spasky_ into the search bar of the Global Cahill Locator. She bit her lip when a total of seventy seven Cahills came up with the last name. She further narrowed it down by adding Lucian, and saw that there were forty Lucians, and she scrolled through the names.

Stephen Spasky was one of them.

She opened his folder, her heart suddenly racing. She knew that there probably wasn't enough information to call him suspicious, but when the folder loaded, her jaw dropped.

Empty.

Not a single file on Stephen Spasky.

"Ian," she called across the room. He turned around and raised his eyebrows. Ignoring the heat creeping up her neck, she asked, "Was Irina married?"

His forehead creased and he walked towards her. "Yes, of course she was. She married Nikilovana Spasky at the age of eighteen... Why?"

Amy bit her lip, confused. Stephen Spasky was obviously not Irina's husband, but he could have been from Nikilovana's side of the family. But couldn't he have changed his name? "Is he still alive?"

"No," Ian replied, his expression darkening. "He was next in line for the Lucian leader's throne until Isabel and Vikram killed him. That gave them a one-way pass to the leadership, because they were next in line after him."

She slowly nodded, part of the puzzle starting to become comprehensible. "Do you know who Stephen Spasky is?"

He frowned, resting his hands on the back of Amy's chair and leaning forward to look at the screen. "You've got to be kidding me," he groaned, his British accent thickening. "I fired him for abusing his role as the arsenal manager of all the strongholds in Russia... Don't tell me you think he's causing chaos?"

"I..." Amy trailed off, "I don't know. I was looking up on the contacts we have in Moscow, and he was one of them. I know Dad could be visiting any one of these six, but..."

"All of them have clean records, but Stephen somehow has an empty file?" he offered, and she nodded. "I think this _does_ look a bit out of place. I say we - "

_Crash_!

They both suddenly jumped at the large sound, and everyone stopped their work when they heard another large bang resembling the sound of gunfire. Amy leaped up to her feet, her defensive instincts suddenly taking over.

"The younger lot is upstairs," Ian muttered.

"Ned, Ted, and Jonah; I need you to keep watch here and take a look at all the camera feeds. Sinead, I think we'll be needing you. Everyone else, _come on_!" Amy said. As she quickly scaled the stairs leading downwards, she quietly mumbled to Ian, "I hope this isn't one of Dan's pranks..."

Ian snorted. "Don't count on it." And for the first time since the poison affair, he smiled.

When they reached the hall that led to the bedrooms, they saw that Madison, Reagan, and Dan was stumbling out of their rooms, bleary eyed. Fiske took one look at them, doing a quick head count, and turned to Ian. "Natalie... Let's check her room."

"Everyone else, check all of your rooms. Reagan, go with Sinead to check her own and her brothers' rooms. Dan, come with me."

Dan obliged, following his sister as she threw open linen closets, peering inside each one of them. When Amy reached her own, and turned the knob of the while door, the first thing her eyes fell on was the large, red hand print.

And then she screamed.


	14. Chapter 14

**Author's Note: **I know I've probably driven most of you crazy with the cliffhanger, and all those unanswered questions, so here's an update that'll soothe your impatient minds ;-) Enjoy, and please_ **review!**_

By the way, what did you think (when you finished the previous chapter) had made Amy scream? After reading this, was your prediction right?

* * *

14.

Blood.

There was the salty smell of the scarlet liquid everywhere. It stained her tan carpet, and pierced those snowy white sheets. It spread across the open pages of a book lying on the floor, and trickled off of the ear of a small teddy bear resting against her beanbag chair. The red liquid trailed to her bed, where she could see the silhouette of a figure under her blankets.

Amy instinctively pushed Dan behind her, and he stumbled back with a yelp. She swallowed hard, and for the first time in awhile, she felt fear. The dreadful feeling was as fresh as a dewy rose, causing her heart to increase its throbbing by a tenfold. Her body trembled, and a shiver ran up her spine. Her eyes were widened and fixated on her bed, which seemed much less of a cozy place of solitude that she thought it to be.

The first one to answer her yell was Nellie, who immediately let out a small shriek and forced Amy back. Nellie clicked her weapon into place, and her heavily lined eyes narrowed dangerously. Her rugged clothing made her look all the more fierce, but even the fact that there were fuzzy slippers on her feet didn't lighten the dreadful feeling.

"What's going - " Fiske abruptly cut off his line of speech. "Oh my."

The usual crinkle of worry appeared in between Fiske's eyebrows, and his blue eyes became icy.

Ian materialized besides Amy, while Hamilton pulled Dan away from the horrifying scene.

"Natalie's gone," Ian said, his voice hoarse. "You don't suppose..."

"It's much too large to be here," Fiske said. "I want everyone to stay together. Stand right by this door and keep watch behind you. Don't move."

He stepped into the room, and Nellie hesitantly trailed behind. The usually hardcore woman flinched and shook like a leaf when she took the edge of the blanket. Both of the adults' eyes were focused on the sheet. Amy dragged her feet in, her gaze traveling throughout the room, scanning each of her belongings that were tainted with the liquid. She felt a warm breath fanning her neck, and turned to find Ian's eyes locking with hers before turning back to the bed. The Cahills are were in stance to fight, and the two Starlings and Jonah had fled from the CCC to downstairs at the commotion.

Amy turned to her closet and the childhood scare of the 'monster in the closet' seemed much more real. Ian's warm hand gently squeezed her own, before he let go and stepped away.

"On my count," Fiske said quietly. "One," he started, his voice quiet. "Two... and now!"

The blankets were thrown off the bed, and Amy shifted her feet on the floor into a position that she could protect herself in. When the thin sheets floated towards the ground, Nellie and Fiske's astonished faces were revealed as they stared down and dropped their weapons.

The first thing Amy saw was the crisp white button down shirt. The bloodstains had neatly drawn an eye with a red iris. Her eyes traveled to the face and it was as if all of the air had been knocked out of her lungs.

"_Dad_."

She stumbled back and her hand went out towards her desk chair to steady her trembling legs. She met something moist, and looked down to see her fingers covered with red copper smelling liquid. Fearing that it was her father's she quickly wiped it away against the fabric of the seat.

Arthur Trent was dead.

Her _father._

The person that she had lost only after two short years.

_Dead_.

She lost him already.

Amy swallowed hard and took a shuddering breathe, her fingernails digging into her palms. She couldn't cry - there was too much fear within her to even move. She heard Hamilton arguing with Dan, telling him that he shouldn't come inside, but Amy turned and gave the Holt a small nod. He let the younger Cahill stumble into the room, and Dan simply stared, unblinkingly.

"Search the rest of the house," Fiske said, his voice breaking. "I don't - "

"Hold on," Ian cut in. Without flinching or even letting out a small grimace, he separated Arthur's clasped hands. A small folding paper was underneath, and she wondered how Ian managed to notice it. He took one look at the name inscribed with red ink, and handed it to Amy with a guarded expression. His lips were pressed together, and his eyes were dark. "It's for you," he said dryly, and Amy knew that she wasn't completely forgiven, nor had he forgotten their encounter about the poison.

She took the piece of folded card stock and stared at her name, written in elegant red calligraphy.

Amy started to doubt that it was ink.

Everyone stared at her expectantly, and she realized that they were waiting for her to read it aloud. Her mind began to instantly panic beause she'd have to reveal what was only between Ian and her. That she had taken Vikram's orders, and was _so_ close to killing him. But whether or not she told the tale, the truth would reveal itself.

Like it _always_ had.

With trembling hands, Amy unfolded the square piece of card stock, and her dry lips parted to read it aloud.

"_I said two days,_

_But now we're left with one,_

_And the clock ticks above the corpse._"

"One day," Amy muttered.

Sinead looked at her best friend, and then stared at Ian who was glaring fiercely at no one in particular. "One day? Corpse? What's going on Amy?"

"Please _do_ explain," Ian added, his eyes flashing.

Amy met his glare evenly. "Clock and corpse. Something doesn't fit," she muttered. She glanced above the body of her father, which had the white sheet draped over it again. It was a corpse, alright, but what clock? Did Vikram mean the time she had left? Or was there some other meaning hidden in the message?

"He means the clock in your room," Sinead said softly, staring up at the forest green one hanging above Amy's closet doors. "And there's a corpse in there."

"Natalie." Ian's hands clenched, "He killed Natalie."

"We don't know that for sure," Dan protested weakly. "He could've kidnapped her or something."

Ian's sharp gaze swerved on Dan. "Do you honestly think I'm stupid? It's obvious enough that Vikram wants be deprived of a family." He looked at Amy, "It's all so he can _kill_ me. And now he's taken Natalie..."

He trailed off and Amy knew what was at the end of the sentence.

It was because of her.

Because she didn't kill Ian.

And because she hadn't made a stand earlier.

It was all her fault.

"Amy," Nellie said, resting her hand against the girl's shoulder. "It's apparent that you and Ian know something we don't." Her guardian studied the Kabra's rigid posture and steely expression. "Would you all care to elaborate?"

The Cahill bit her lip until she tasted salty blood, and turned to stare at the oak doors of her closet. She looked back at Ian, who had his eyebrows raised, and was clearly hiding a pained expression.

"First we see if Sinead's theory is right," Amy swallowed hard, "And then I explain."

"_Everything,_" Ian added with a scowl.

She stepped forward, grasping the brass knob of her closet door, turning it slowly. With a deep breath and a glance behind her to see Fiske's reassuring nod, she opened the door.

o.o.O.o.o

Natalie Kabra really, _really_ hated her bloodline.

Her mother was enough of an example - the wretched witch was a bloodthirsty killing machine. Isabel Kabra would do anything to gain the power she wanted, and committing murder was no problem. Natalie remembered one of the conversations she had with her mother, regarding the Clue Hunt when Isabel's true colors showed through even to her children.

_"Mum, what are you doing?" Natalie asked, wrinkling her nose as wet, sticky sand attached itself to her thousand dollar sneakers. She trudged behind, wishing she was brave enough to stay back in the SUV like Ian was. But her brother was foolish, and she would stay by her mother's side until the end. With her last vow in mind, the young Kabra girl tugged the sleeves of her black shirt over her hands, the sudden night time chill of Australia enveloping her._

_"It's time to set fire to those peasants and their uncle," Isabel growled, holding up a small bottle of kerosene. _

_Natalie widened her eyes slightly - burn them to death? It seemed a bit extreme, even for her mother's standards. "B-but..."_

_"No, buts, Natalie! I know Irina's going to help them, so I might as well get rid of her as well," Isabel snapped. "She's a blood traitor to the Lucians. First went her husband, and now it's her turn."_

_"Her husband? What happened to him?"_

_An eerie smile lit Isabel's face, and her mother gave a cruel laugh. "Oh, his spirit won't haunt you, if that's what your wondering. I figure he'll be afraid to confront the Kabra's after I killed him off."_

_It was then Natalie suddenly stopped, staring at her mother as if seeing her with a new light. Isabel Kabra was absolutely gorgeous and without a physical flaw - Natalie knew that, and it was a fact. But hearing the women talk about her past conquests in murder was a whole new level of insane, and Natalie didn't know what to think. _

_Her brother was right._

_Their mother was an insane, cruel, greedy, and vile woman. She knew that now. But when the kerosene was spilled around the beach house, the match was lit, and the house went up in flames, Natalie didn't move at all. She stayed hidden in the shadows even when the old man and Cahill children ran away. _

_And beside her grinning mother, she made no move to help Irina._

_Even when the burning flames - so fierce that she could feel their heat - engulfed the woman's body, and death met it's newest addition._

But who was she to deem her mother as forever wicked? Hadn't the others told her that Isabel had avenged her supposed death?

Guilt suddenly washed over her, and Natalie knew that at the end, Isabel had turned out alright. She remembered the unbearable pain that surged through her when she was electrocuted, and shook her head when she thought of how _stupid_ she had been to use a _metal_ pole.

It must have seemed horrible to her mother, who had thought she was dead.

Isabel seemed a lot more brave when she thought of how she had devoured the serum and killed off Damien.

At the end, _Isabel Kabra, _the supposed murder and enemy, was the _hero._

Hearts really _could_ change. Which was why she had a greater reason to struggle more to change hers.

Though when the metal door clicked open to her blindingly white marble floored cell, she doubted she'd have a chance to change if she was _dead_.

Because the man stared triumphantly at her looked a whole lot like her father - jet black hair, handsome features, a tall and muscular build. She defiently glared back and examined his face, and wondered how odd it was that there was something off about how the man compared to the memory of her dad.

_No_, Natalie thought, her heart pounding. _This was her father._ He was right before her eyes, and she had seen him almost every day during her childhood. Amy was kidnapped by this same person, and said herself that she could identify him as Vikram by the resemblance he had with his kids... But Amy had never seen Vikram clearly for more than a few minutes, had she?

She denied the truth at the back of her mind, because it was all the more dangerous to be captured by a stranger. She was one to know that clearly.

_This was her father_, she tried to convince herself. This was the man that had raised her part of her life.

But deep down, she knew the truth.

This was all a masquerade.


End file.
